Marilyn Shepperson (4th September 1949 / Hounslow. Middx)

We drove through the mountains
On a late summers day
I was the passenger, along for the ride
The mountain tops were clear cut
Against the cloudless blue sky
All the tiny waterfalls and steams
Were sparkling bright
When suddenly a pigeon darted from cover
Playing kamikaze with the cars
Ducking and diving and weaving
And going like a bat out of Hell
Thinking it was caught in the slipstreams
I awaited the inevitable thump
Then the pigeon flew upwards
And I saw what the problem was
Two falcons flapped lazily overhead
Four eyes watching that unfortunate pigeon
So close I could see the sharp talons
I was awestruck by the rare sight
To my dying day I will remember
The majesty of those predatory birds
For to see one is a rarity
To see two, is almost unheard of
And so close that I could see
The bands and bars on the feathers
But as for the poor pigeon
Tough luck; it was lunch time.