Sunday, December 30, 2012

The Sixth Day of Christmas


On the sixth day of Christmas,
my true love gave to me
a hawk in the dogwood tree.


My camera was nestled
all firm in it's bag,
without a memory card
and the batteries all dead.


I'm mixing my Christmas songs
and poems,
but you get the picture.


After a brief scramble,
I found the hawk quite patient to my hurried preparations,
willing to wait for me to get my act together
so I could take pictures to my heart's content.


And then the hawk turned and launched
to fly away.
Fly away indeed, friend hawk.
Don't eat my chickens.


1 comment:

Hiker Chick said...

Nice! A few weeks ago when we were at horseback riding lessons, we were grooming our horses when I saw a hawk swoop down and attempt to carry off a chicken. Apparently the chicken was too heavy or hard to pick up; the hawk dropped it and left empty-taloned. But all the chickens hastily adjourned to the barn! The attempted chicken-napping happened just feet away from Noah and his horse.