Hawk

warm March sunshine

is a welcome stranger

and deftly strokes our faces,

as we idle down the lanes,

your light touch on my sleeve

alerts me to stand still

a young sparrow hawk is

perched sentry-style on the

church wall, wary, cautious,

talons buried deep in the lichen

we freeze like cold statuary

of the nearby graveyard

in the hope this unexpected

audience will perhaps endure,

but all spells eventually break

and our hypnosis is shattered

by the raucous clang

announcing the Eucharist

instinctively wings flex

revealing his hidden prize

a tiny breakfast shrew

hauled easily skyward

as parishoners arrive piecemeal

we follow his flight disappearing

behind the sombre yews

silhouetted against the blue

still gaping our appreciation

Published by grahamrsherwood