How does it feel, Ghetto Bird, to circle over houses,
And the people who dwell within them?
Far from rare, a pest for sure,
How does it feel to be the state’s most hated bird?
How does it feel to flash your obtrusive, bright light into the window
Of a mother changing her baby’s diaper?
Or on an elderly man taking a shower?
Or on the man walking his dog?
Or on the teens in the park?
A fishbowl, a hawk
prey, victim, assailant, predator
Do you find what you seek, Ghetto Bird?
Round and round you go,
Illuminating the night’s sky with an artificial sun,
Beaming down on me, I’m caught –
Or so I thought.
You demand “stay inside!”
Describing the alleged and their clothes,
And their race.
Take flight, Ghetto Bird,
Go home, you’re not wanted here,
God speed and Good night.
~Kimberly Jo Cooley