The Observer
The Observer She sits, motionless yet alert Eyes wide and searching Wings folded, feathers smoothed. Relishing the remaining tastes of vole or rabbit. She waits. As wind blown leaves drift into sight Her gaze stays on the gloved hand which she knows holds treats. Then the call and in one majestic moment, with wings spread, talons ready to grip She soars from her perch Landing with open mouth to snap the morsel.