On my street, not a thing happens
uncaptured in birds' eyes.
Hawks sit on streetlamps or corners -
swivel-cowled remote spies.
And the crows lurk by the murder,
swooping to the sidewalk.
Pigeons strut and flap-glide down low -
masters of the sly gawk.
Add myriad flitters and sitters -
high-speed reconnaissance
and those who seem occupied by
a playful mating dance.
They're squatters, stalkers, and spotters -
but who watches the watchers?
