The Hawk

 

As I turned the corner I saw the bird standing under the trees,
grey,hunched, motionless.
I thought at first it was a heron,
telescopically shrunk into itself,
though this is not the type of country for herons.
The bird took flight and I saw from the markings it was a goshawk.
The other birds saw it, flying low across the field,
and in a terrified, twittering mass
took off from their roosts in the wood
like an army in rout.
I looked back at the far end of the path
in the centre of the field, the goshawk stood alone
lordly and keenly observant.