March 6 - March 10 Week 64/72
frozen into place by the
soul-piercing gaze of a red-tail
then quickly dismissed
not prey, nor a threat
I am allowed to get lost
in soft white breast feathers
patterned and puffed moving
ever so slightly above glinting
needle sharp black talons tightly
gripping the weathered old willow
a glancing look
the shift of a wing
stretch of a leg
a yawn!
an arching back
a flash of its namesake
and the hawk is gone
I reach for my mug of
freshly-brewed coffee
stunned to find it cold
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