donuts shouldn't have arms

Right now.  I am distracted.  And it reminds me of the hawk I saw this morning.  It was perched, about 20 feet high, in a tree along the road.  The hawk appeared to be surveying the forest preserve field.  But not even 100 yards down the road, as the field transitioned into strip mall, there was a person dressed up as a huge donut (with sprinkles).  The human in a donut costume was waving at passing traffic, presumably to entice us into the strip mall donut shop.  I am not a hawk expert, but my guess is that a donut, even the huge variety, is not the natural prey of the hawk.  I can't help but believe however, that the big waving donut was a distraction to the hawk.  The hawk seemed to have the business of staying alive on its mind, and there, with unnaturally close proximity, is a ridiculously animated, happy and inviting donut flaunting its pretend fresh sweet goodness.  I wished and daydreamt of the hawk attacking the donut, but I didn't see it happen, nor did I read about it later.  I imagined it circling above, then swooping down, talons bared, beak at the ready to peck and rip, then, in an instant, a flurry of human flails and screams, cloth and mesh and hair and blood being pierced and torn and flung North, East, South and West, relentless and final.  But it was not to be.  There is probably a mouse in heaven right now with the same dream.  If only life were fair.