Poetry Starts: The Hawk

THE HAWK

With no noise she kills her prey

There is no trace of the killing

Where once stood a little mouse

She leaves for her nest

Where little ones await a meal

A mouse dinner is their meal

What a horrid end for this mouse

To end up in some hawk’s stomach

Here comes trouble another hawk

Yet this is a male

A threat to her young

She spreads her powerful wings

Next you see her in the air

Fighting for the lives of her young

Not caring for her own

The battle ends and she has won

Once more she has risked  her life

For the young hawks

Bang!

What was that?

Only the shot of a gun

And down falls the mother hawk

What away to end

On some hunter’s mantel

Stuffed with cloth!

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 What is Poetry Starts?

…poems and prose from now back to teen years
…remembering a first writing love
…pumping the creative well yet again
…silencing the internal critic