Where Are the Birds

Where are the birds? They should be feeding. Did they come and go while I was reading? Or is that pesky cat out there? Oh no, she’s here, right by my chair. Something’s disturbed them, there’s no sound. I put on my coat to look around. ‘Tis then the villain I espy, Sitting in my Chamaeparis high. It’s a red-tailed hawk, so very still Hoping some of my babies will Forget he’s there and come to feed. One careless move is all he’ll need. Beautiful but deadly he surveys The territory as he sways Upon the tree, but a shadow draws His attention and causes him to pause. I look up high and there I see A baldheaded eagle in my tallest tree. Another is soaring all around Looking for prey upon the ground. They’re calling out to one another And the frightened hawk looks for an other Site from which a meal to plunder. He’d almost made a fatal blunder. The birds come back, they know that they Are safe to feed another day. No eagles will come swooping by, They need more room in which to fly. The hawk has learned a timely lesson, To keep one eye open when he’s messin With little birds he wants for dinner. A larger bird could be the winner. For this is simply nature’s way. The biggest is apt to win the day The hunter will become the hunted. And be the meal that he so wanted. For PD's contest Won a 7th