The Hawk
Patience is the life of the hawk.
She will sit long hours
Concealed within
Tree boughs, watching
And waiting; preening and shuffling
Feathers. Her very life
Dependent upon these fragile
Fibres. Then, when hunger signals,
She leaves her secure perch.
Shape shifting bandit of the skies;
Silent witness to the slaughter
That meets her desperate needs.
Death comes swiftly as the hawk
Spreads her cowl around the corpse.
Speed, agility and guile
All keened to the killing.
Dave Urmston 2016 c
No comments:
Post a Comment