Ode to hawks

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There was a disturbance the birds had felt:
Feathers flying everywhere.
Then the nesting ground was empty,
No birds left.
Only a black crowd in the sky,
They’re just up there with their keen eye.

But the hawk,
Only the hawk
Turned out brave,
And bold:
Born in a state of total silence,
It sticks to itself and believes
What its purpose is.





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