A Silvery Fish

A seagull flew by

With a fish in its beak,

A sight which, to others,

Might not be unique.

 

But here by the river,

Where I sit a bunch,

I never have witnessed

A gull with its lunch.

 

That silvery fish

Was, just moments ago,

Swimming, quite unaware,

In the waters below.

 

Never thinking its life

Would be ending today

In the gut of a gull,

Not the pleasantest way.

 

In Manhattan there always

Is room for surprise

For you never know what

Will pass right by your eyes.