Perhaps an allegory of sorts
Of All Backyards
In a suburb, no less
a red-tailed hawk impaled
Jay on a branch splotched with lichen.
Talons are a space-time curvature, a singularity
in Jay’s event horizon, squeezing a final squawk
Backyard bully of sparrows and cardinals,
Jay’s bill opens
as the beak plunges in bliss and
plucked feathers hang
in fierce heat, even at mid-morning.
Below on an old dog dish
a female Cardinal sips a drink
and eyes Jay disappearing.
Her grievance gorged,
she flits into a blue spruce.