The Hawk ©

Wings snickering a silent hum,
A rising, falling pendulum,
The meadow waits, silent and numb.

The lone hawk assassin scutters
Mid thermals pulsating, putters,
Below fear frozen prey flutters.

Stiffened against Earth's stoic mound
She watches panting on the ground
And listens for a sudden sound.

His leaden weight drops from the skies
As Nature's arrow-dart, he dives,
A whiplash knot slips from her eyes.

Removes the fear within her chest,
Her fight for life is put to rest,
And lives to take another test.

Wings snickering a silent hum,
A rising, falling pendulum,
The meadow still waits, always numb.