The h2g2 Poem
Created | Updated Jan 7, 2009
Too Late
Dancing in the Autumn light,
I hear the sound of frantic flight.
And hiding, swift, behind a tree,
I looked, to spy what I could see.
And as I watched, there came a dove
Pursued by hungry hawk above.
Its breath came weak, its wings were sore,
Soon it must fall, to sing no more.
The hawk dove down to seize its prey,
But it would lose its meal today.
For leaping out, I struck it down
With my hard staff upon its crown.
The dove, now safe, rested there,
And I could see its beauty rare.
Its beak was sharp, its feathers white.
It shone clean in the pale moonlight.
But though it sat, it seemed to me,
It got no rest upon that tree.
Its breath came faster, quicker yet,
But air the frail dove could not get.
It fell down to the ground below
Its song had stopped, its movements slowed,
And soon it all together ceased
To move at all, poor, pretty beast.
At my feet now, two birds lay.
Did I kill both? Who could say?
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