IMG_0007 (3)

looking left

IMG_0006 (3)

looking right

IMG_0004 (3)

yeah, well
don’t look at me
I’m not your lunch!

Voracious is his appetite

For that which scurries in his sight

Inside this little acre’s banks

He finds the bellies, cheeks, and flanks

Sees them, pounces, and devours

The mouse and mole, their final hour

I see this each and every day

The perch, the drop, death’s cruel play

Tragic yes, for those that nourish

Needed though, so he may flourish

One harsh truth, it’s not their living

It’s in their death that they are giving

Real worth and value to their kind

The ones we humans often find

Stuck on traps of glue or worse

Death by bird? Or a sticky hearse

What can I say?  Was a slow day in the newsroom!


16 thoughts on “V I S I T O R S

  1. Best poem I’ve read in ages… and those pictures are priceless. Wow SB, you surprised me with this, I don’t remember the last poem from you… I really don’t.

    May there be more slow days in the newsroom.

    FYI, I have to send you an e-mail…. looking for your address.


  2. He is flippin’ beautiful…I’m aware they don’t necessarily bode well for our smaller neighborhood critters, but he is really something to behold (when he’s not eating_..xo


    • Oh, thanks bulldog…that means a lot. Truly. And while I haven’t enjoyed many such days of late, I’m with you..hope there are more of them and the poetry door remains open for a while longer. I’ve missed it. xo


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