bald eagle

I was sitting on a bench in the park when
I saw this large hawk circling overhead. I had
my eyes on it when it suddenly swooped down and
picked up this little baby right out of its
carriage and flew away with it. My heart almost
stopped beating. I ran over to the mother, who
was eyeing a dress in a window. "Ma'am," I
stuttered, "that bird just stole your baby...."
She looked into the carriage and then up at the
sky. "Oh, I know that bird. She's a good bird.
She just took my baby to play with her babies
for a while. She'll bring him back in a short
time. My baby loves her babies. But thanks for
telling me. By the way, what do you think of
this dress? Is it right for me?" I thought of
her baby sailing through the sky in the claws
of that bird. "Well," I said, "I think the
mignonette green captures the amplitude of your
inner aviary." "What are you, some kind of loose
nutcase? Get out of here before I call the
police," she said.

--James Tate, Memoir of the Hawk