Vineyard Verses : Poem — To a beautiful young predator
From this immature red-tailed hawk,
I heard neither screech or squawk.
It's fast learning to prosper and thrive,
on a pole at the foot of Hospital Drive.
From this central lofty perch,
it conducts a regular meal-time search.
It's looking for prey items hanging around...
birds in the air, or mice on the ground.
It scans north, south, west, and east,
for its daily mid-day feast.
Trying not to intrude or be a boor,
I take one or two shots and withdraw.