Tuesday, June 27, 2006


In nights dark quietude
raw tragedy rules supreme
as moon and stars audience the play:
Tight scanning stare
the eyes are there to deceive you
it’s the sounds that give life away.
Each pin point noise gains crafted attention
a master hunter tracking ignorant prey.
Each heart beat prelude to death
a grace prayer before the meal.
The gavel drops,
bidding over,
the deal is made in this auction of life.
Preliminaries done, gentle winging ceases,
purpose dictates action.
Defenceless against a weightless,
effortless, wingpulse swoop
and the chance of life is bloodied and purged.
The only applause is the frantic winging
as predator cuffs the air and leaves the stage.

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