Overcast, breezy and cold.

This morning I watched a red-tail hawk,
wings back, drop like the head of a hatchet
into the ditch. Whatever she caught
in the deep dry grass, rabbit or mouse,
had a moment to lie there before it could die
while the hawk stretched to its full height,
fanned and then leisurely folded her wings,
tipped her head with a gleaming yellow eye
and for a minute watched it waiting.