A swoosh, a squeal, and frantic flapping
Of wings against the dull grey
Talons tucked into the felt on the nape of its prey
Should’ve seen it coming, whirling in the sky
But the rat had its head buried in leftovers it stole and ferried
From a dumpster to the open terrace
A steep, turbulent ascent much like an aircraft
Steadies a short while after take-off
Downsizing the cars and construction below
Perilous in the event of an impact, still;
Fascinating to observe when cruising above
A sudden tremor, a vigorous free-fall
Supplemented by a gust o’ wind
But a quick stroke of luck to be nabbed
By a different set of claws
Its heart must’ve stopped then sank to its feet and then leapt
Into its throat
The rat flexed its arms, confident of good fortune
Smirked to itself about the brush with death – what a story it shall make
And looked up as if to thank its rescuer
Flying close and identical to its original predator
‘What a fool!’ screamed an on-looker,
‘They will feast on its flesh and bones’
‘Often, one will push you deep in trouble,
And pull you back to win your trust. It can be hard to tell,’ felt sorry another
‘I’m sure it’s hatching an escape plan; it’s happy to just
Have lived now so as to fight later,’ quipped a third
‘What if the rat was poisoned? Sometimes what we may fondly consume,
Might end up consuming us! ‘ cautioned a fourth.
Unaware of the worries and frustrations of the anatomically close mammals
And unbothered by the outcome
The trio flew into the sunset
Together.
Image Credit: Photo by Museum of New Zealand Te Papa Tongarewa