against the side of the warehouse,
I notice the raptor has returned
to the perch near the rafters
and the opening the size of a nest.
I slow, then stop completely
to watch the bird take in the area,
its head swiveling back and forth.
I wait for its head to turn right
before I risk one step forward,
then I consider maybe it sees better
from the periphery since its eyes
are settled on the sides of its face.
I wait for it to look toward me
before I take another step,
taking in the color of its feathers,
the way they lay against its neck,
but here still, I feel watched.
I manage six steps,
each one sharpening the picture
of the raptor against the sky,
its talons wrapped around the post
before it leaps into the air and leaves.
I resume my normal pace
and return to my affairs.
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