Sunday, June 24, 2012

The Hawk

As I walked out the door
I heard a the flutter of many wings
Birds flying this way and that, trying to escape

It seemed as though all were gone
Yet I still heard frantic flapping in the tree
Suddenly he appeared

A hawk swept down from the branches
His prey held firmly in his grasp
A helpless dove, wings beating their last flap

I was sickened by the sight
Suddenly the hawk took flight with the lifeless bird
The only evidence, feathers along the path

Susan Wachtel
June 24, 2012

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