Beaked
by David Ackley
Gliding to a midnight snack
no more inclined to you
than to a stump
the rush of air over wing still
stands your neck hair up
panic's captain
saluted by the shriek of the hare
who knows what
of fear befits
the snap of small bones beaked
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Author's Note
This is was instigated by the last line which comes from another context, a case where the sound image generated what comes before it.
Other stories by David Ackley
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Beautiful piece!
Love this. The form is wonderful, the space like night.
Thanks Sara and Dianne for the generous readings.
Love the intense drama in the piece that, indeed, "stands your neck hair up"! Maybe esp if you're a hare!
Like Ed Higgins said, "intense drama."*
Thanks Ed, and Thanks, Tim.