Survival of the Fittest
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I gaze up at the pellucid sky
a red tailed hawk is flying high;
it scans for prey, which soon may die ...
rabbits run for your life I want to cry!
I watch transfixed, I am spellbound
and watch it swoop, without a sound,
perhaps its next meal has been found -
with luck its prey flees underground.
Give Me 8 Lines of Rhyme Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Tania Kitchin
11/9/19
Copyright © Jan Allison | Year Posted 2019
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