Buzzard

 

Awsomely aware. Warily a-watch.

Awash with grandeur. Abounding with might,

Such majesty, such regal grace,

A privilege. A truly magnificent sight.

 

He lands. He remains so perfectly still.

His eyes scour and search for any slight stir

of the trickling brook’s verdant banks.

Rabbit, vole, rat, the occasional hare.

 

A flap and a leap, he’s airborne once more,

ascending then dropping to some spot unknown.

No doubt his barbed talons have fastened upon

unsuspecting prey to feast on alone.

 

Lynne Carroll

(Photo taken in the garden. April 2022)

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