I sit at the window Drinking morning tea As robins and chickadees Chatter their warnings. The roadrunner Appears on the sidewalk, Thin legs pumping in pursuit, Speckled plumage erect, His sharp face alert, A killer and a savage predator. I hurry out To drive him From the yard and He faces me, unafraid. He is the enemy. He hunts the songbirds And is successful. Tears them to ragged shreds, Leaves behind in the grass Torn clumps of feathers, Scatterings of tiny bones, And often, The entire discarded head. I shovel up His leavings And carry it away. Today I drive him out. He darts through My iron gate. Across the street He jumps onto The high wall, Leaps to a neighbor’s Flat roof and into Pine trees, Hidden and waiting. He will come again But I’m watching. So are the birds, Who forget And sing anyway.