Stone Cold Stillness

Not far above

The busy

Sidewalk,

Not far at all,

It perches…

Talons

Dug unforgivingly

Into the

Smooth granite,

Wings unfolded

Ready to leap,

Pounce,

On any one

Of the hundreds

Of unsuspecting

Passerby…

Who,

Without even a glance

Upward

Stroll temptingly

Beneath its

Crazed, wild eyes

And its teeth…

Exposed now

In wicked

Rows

Of skin devouring

Nail like knives

As its

Lips curl back

In a

Knowing, anticipating

Sneer,

Watching, watching, watching,

And searching

For that perfect meal…

Like that one…

And then,

As it has

For a century’s time…

In stone cold

Stillness…

It waits.