Hawk sighting

there’s someone on a bike ride down the street,
a woman standing stringing up her Christmas lights
and talking to her husband on the roof, or something

there’s a swarm of bugs around the door,
inside the frame and stuck onto the wood
like little beads

there’s an election tomorrow,
you’re standing there while leaves scramble in the street like children

you look up,
the sky is endless and self-occupying,
and it’s very hard to see