As I walked out the door
I heard a the flutter of many wings
Birds flying this way and that, trying to escape
It seemed as though all were gone
Yet I still heard frantic flapping in the tree
Suddenly he appeared
A hawk swept down from the branches
His prey held firmly in his grasp
A helpless dove, wings beating their last flap
I was sickened by the sight
Suddenly the hawk took flight with the lifeless bird
The only evidence, feathers along the path
Susan Wachtel
June 24, 2012