Exit, Pursued By A Hawk

I round the corner from the subway heading home down my usual route, with the usual people crossing my path, the usual cars rushing through the intersection toward their usual places, everything in place, when, above me, something catches my eye.

A pigeon sails erratically across the sky pursued by a hawk. It zigs and zags, wheeling overhead as the hawk unhurriedly banks to follow. They pass over the T-Mobile store, over the traffic on Flatbush, out toward Crown Heights and beyond, and I watch, entranced, until they pass out of sight, and I come to myself, shake my head to bring me back to the mundane world, and continue on my way home.