The muse of Kilally Meadows(2)

A hawk moves slyly,prey-shadowing, in one hand an edible root, the other clenched tight over the meadows The pupil in the eye

shrinks to a red pinpoint wherever a star or prickly rabbit ear droop Let wind and moon slow or frost him (in a freezing rain!)

every streaking raptor wants nothing more than to be the setting of sand & nests Playful or perverse,clowning high in the sky,

he'll tear the fur-balls loose and add its own snow-blindness And unluckily for subject moles who sleep, bound in mossy earth,

spines are the easiest to breach True power's in pleasurable flight, so if a spine or ear just flutter once, he’ll work his lancet eye

and knuckle down hard on a ragweed bed, mangling the dreamer-- a hawk that preys on snowy clean meadows, in one hand an edible ear