if you look up in montreal,
red tailed hawks pop up like pucks
in those high striker games at carnivals,
the ones with a strongman swinging a hammer.
it happens beside the big hill we call the mountain.
i cross mctavish reservoir and look up again.
the hawk is still cruising a wind gust,
no flapping required
or oops…it’s a 747 commercial jet….
my 10,000 year bad.
for more on mistaken identities,
see broken bats baseball,
but down river a ways