Prey

Gray, downy feathers

drift slowly

toward the ground,

like the first flakes of snow.

High on a branch,

bent with cherry buds,

sits a red-tailed hawk,

resting on the limp remains

of an early morning meal.

Chocolate brown feathers

fold down toward

a cinnamon red tail.

A quick swivel

of the bird’s head

reveals a piercing yellow eye.

Understanding is quick,

prey never has a chance.

5 thoughts on “Prey

  1. The imagery in this poem is so strong. “limp remains of an early morning meal,” “cinnamon red tail,” “piercing yellow eye.” Such vivid pictures. The sight of a hawk, for me, is always humbling–that recognition of the power of a predatory bird.

    Like

  2. “resting on the limp remains

    of an early morning meal.”

    Nothing more traumatizing than watching a hawk shred a little birdie to pieces.

    You’ve captured both the majestic and the vicious characteristics.

    Like

Leave a Reply to deborahdillon Cancel reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s