He reaches for his shotgun, raises it to his shoulder and blows her body through the tall grasses. Travis C. Mills believes chicken hawks get his chickens, Eagles kill his lambs, Osprey steal his trout. All of them. If only Mr. Mills would go eyeball to eyeball with a crippled hawk. Night is Black Saucer Eyes by Sandy Beck in a turning head seeing where you cannot.
Night is a community of scurriers scratching at spilled seed and left-over suet.
Night is large ears that hear a mouse s heartbeat thirty feet away. Night is soft, silent wings maneuvering through dogwood and magnolia, gliding across a moon-bright lawn. Night is sharp talons, a beak that tears, a feathery silhouette devouring his prey. Courtship fills the icy woods. Night drops beside her, swaying from side to side, up and down.