The Observer

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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.




 

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