The Hawk

The Hawk flys overhead soaring everlasting in circles around the poor field mice. six o'clock. The Red Sun is now parrallel to the treeline in the West. Six o'clock Dinnertime. The hawk dives down, like a speeding bullet and snatches up a small mouse, who was walking along the corroded barbwire fence, with his sharpe and dangerous talans. Six o'clock. Feeding time. A lover is now gone from the world of field mice, Just like that. With the turn of a hand on a clock Six o'clock. With the rumble of a Hawk's empty stomach now a fellow mouse is gone. Forever. Sad, isn't it?