Head down, hanging in the azure

she drifts,

her wings as silken arrows.

 

She folds and dives,

then falls

as silent as any end.

 

Her tiny heart is calm and free.

Her prey close,

she splits the breeze asunder.

 

Striking, she takes the air again,

majestic kill and sorrow…

mouths to feed await.

 

The Land feels no loss,

the Sky feels no gain…

everything is as it should be.