Bloodbath Breakfast

ten feet from our driveway – a bloodbath!

scraps of fur, one tiny claw left

suspect: our resident hawk

victim: baby squirrel?

bittersweet feelings:

we cheer for one,

mourn the wee

furry

catch

***
ask

ourselves:

did it fall

to its death from

the towering pines?

fly talon-pierced away?

little one taken too young

plucked from the warmth of its mother

nourishment for our majestic hawk

Evidence of fresh-killed breakfast
Probably a squirrel
Could have been a rabbit

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