The Hidden
A hawk wanders flying horizontal in the azure sky
over the nearby green hills, black eyes searching
we see it later my helper and I
near the market tearing apart a pigeon
blood and feathers torn by the hawk
as it gorges it’s hungry belly
sacrifice lives with life and death
we do not often see its struggle
life and death we rarely hear its cries
Copyright © Linda Milgate | Year Posted 2019
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