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?
Copyright © Chris Boskovski | Year Posted 2013
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