The Hawk

From his perch upon a post
The silent watcher spies
Movement in the sheltering grass
Wherein a creature lies

In wait for chance to find a seed
To make a scanty meal
Or, loosened stems with which to wind
Her nest where she would seal

The pink and hairless squirming babes
Who wait her quiet return
That they might suckle at her breast
'til large enough to learn

Their way out in the larger world
That waits just on the verge
Beyond the tangle where they live
Where they will soon emerge.

But, then a silent plunge begins
With speed beyond belief
Into the grass with talons spread
That leaves the babes in grief

For mother who will ne'er return
To the soon silent nest.
Her life once lived so furtively
Now lies ever in rest.