Wild Birds

I glide with agility and swiftness from azure height With keen eyes intent on finding a morsel to devour My screeching cries are echoed as blaring screams On pinioned wings, I fly where hidden quarry lies My shadow is feared by many on hills and fields I watch tiny feet scurry in search of a place to hide I am a red-tailed hawk, who's feathered plumage is crimson as if painted by a master artist's hand Songbirds stop trilling when I soar in the sky Dreading they'd be on the menu as my next meal My feathers have often made a fine poet's quill I am beautiful and wild, revered, brazen and bold With sharp talons, I am perched on an aspen branch Meadow grasses beneath me, I search with inspection I am a bird of prey that some have labeled a 'raptor' but I'm busy building a nest with the help of my mate.