The Eagle

The eagle circles high in the air, watching a mouse just leaving its lair. With wide sloping turns he comes ever near hoping his prey won't know that he's there. Blinded by the sun and driven by hunger the little mouse bewildered from its winter slumber, senses no fear. But death is there, circling, watching, it waits. The little mouse freezes sensing its fate. Can it make it to safety before it's too late? The eagles' eyes narrow, its talons extend, the time for waiting has come to its end. He dives, the mouse runs: zig zagging through the grass. The play of life plays on, who of them will win? If not this mouse, then another for the eagle on the wind.