Yesterday I took a photo of a rooster in the street.
I live in Taiwan now. Things happen like that here.
When I show the photo to my friend, he says,
“Did you ask him why he crossed the road?” No,
I say, but I did watch an old woman try to catch him.
When I asked if he was hers, she said no and grinned.
I liked that grin. I understood it entirely, in the way
that anyone who has tried to catch something not hers
can understand. So crow, rooster, and puff up
your pretty white feathers, and strut, and scratch,
and preen all you like, because I got my eyes
on you and I've been practicing moving
with the precision of a wise hungry crone, and one day
I will get my hands on you.