An osprey does a flyover. A glistening
fish in his talons, still struggling, turned
aerodynamically into the wind.
How far must the osprey fly, how long
must he carry his dinner before landing,
alone, with his prized supper?
And imagine the fish as it flies,
alive in the painful claws, drying
as it dies of too much oxygen.
Does it wonder what God has seized it?
Or is it too stunned by the view to care?