I witnessed a brutal murder
Walking home
From the Sunday farmers’ market
And did nothing.

The temperature was
In the nineties.
The sun beat the pavement
Without mercy
Heating the bottoms of my feet
Through my soles.

I stood on the sidewalk
Under that sun,
A voyeur
Along with two men
Taking a break
From mowing lawns.

We watched,
Fascinated,
From beginning to end
That robin,
Or was it a blue jay,
I can’t remember,
On the limb of
That shady tree
Plucking out the eyes,
The brain,
The inner organs
Until only the skin remained
From what had been
A field mouse.

The bird slipped
The mouse pelt
Onto a broken twig
Jutting from the branch.
What was left of a life
Hung like a winter overcoat,
A mouse pelt jacket,
Waiting
To keep a bird warm
So it didn’t have to
Fly south
For the winter.