The Dance of Death, A sparrow's tale Options

[Cleo_Serapis]

The Dance of Death

Their pitch was harsh, the sound was weak,
a nest was hidden high.
The woods were full of creature-speak
ignored by passersby.

A few were round, and some were slight,
concealed among the trees,
by parents pausing in their flight,
upon Spring’s warming breeze.

A sparrow brave, petite and frail
once perched with weary claw -
was swept away by Nature’s gale
and snatched by prowler’s paw.

The kill so swift, his silenced call
a sacrifice for hatch;
and broken wing, to mark his fall,
lay tattered in the thatch.

The clutch remained in warm domain,
their flock reduced by one,
to face the harshness and the strain
of lives they’ve just begun.

The seeds were sown, to take first flight
on wings of bated breath,
albeit soon, with all their might
descend the dance of death.

© 2003 Lorraine M Kanter

[Eisa]

Hi Lori

I love nature poems and this one is no exception. You have told your tale so beautifully. I have thoroughly enjoyed reading it.

Snow