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.