Cute - Aug. 2, 2022

I’m sure a hawk doesn’t see a mourning dove the way many do its cute head-bobbing strut the delicate beak dip lifted to drink water that falsetto vibrato trilled from a chest carried by swift wings the hawk waits till cute

looks the other way drinks too long

or flies straight and lazy grabs breaks and defeathers cute rips flesh and swallows cute leaving some with shredded emotions for a small bird no longer cute sitting in the stomach of something not so cute so we wait a day or two

before we say “oh, what a darling song

that cactus wren has” as a shadow glides overhead a different opinion

the blot in a clear blue sky