Efi Hatzimanolis #135 for all the PoExits (with thanks)

Water and air
air and water,
uncovered in me 
a hunger.

I saw an eagle pursue its prey,
a spotted neck turtle dove, straight 
into my elderly cat’s mouth.

I tell you this, to keep you here.
I write this, because I cannot leave.

The pigeon is not me.
Neither the eagle nor the cat 
could arrest that moment of truth
into the beauty I crave,
a deeper hunger than I thought possible.

Onto my shoulder,
I lift my cat, with the pigeon
clamped in her jaws.
The eagle never takes its eyes off its prey.
It sits immobile,
until we enter the house.
I wish to offer you, the eagle, the cat, the pigeon,
here, in this space.