5.07.2010

Hunting Season

What a force to be reckoned with.
Their strong wing-beats cutting
Through the air as they shoot
Like colored comets from the sky

With one favorable glance
A flick of the wrist,
Their lengthy necks turn
As one at the new prey

A duckling approaches her
With its twinkling eyes
Evil masked by youth
Mouth open, chirping innocently

She reaches into her pocket
For the left-over roll saved
Just for this occasion,
Little does she know as the masses gather

Plucking an earnest sample
The girl drops it on the mottled green
A smile appearing from cheek to cheek
As the duckling gobbles its entrée

Chirping in satisfaction the duckling
Shakes it’s head, the girl bends
Over and closer in delight
Now the fun truly begins

Feathers cloud the air as
The ravenous winged beasts
Surmount their attack.
Moments dwindle, the scene clears

The half eaten roll is gone
Without a single remnant of its
Existence, the foul waddle
Off in search of new prey

But where is the girl?

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