PREDATOR

 

Wild, bleak moorland -

the wind strangling me with my own hair,

gagging my voice; and the the distant hills

glowing in a patch of moving sunlight, like disembodied Souls

flitting across the horizon.

I tasted the singularity of the heather,

it's woody stalks,

the incense scent of it's purple flowers.

They had a prophetic quality, a great poignancy

that was exquisite, almost torture.

There was only one proper path.

Muddy, stony,

it led to the bridge over the stream.

And it was dangerously exposed out there -

anything moving could be seen for miles,

and a Red Kite possesses telescopic vision.

The agonized shriek  

sent a spike of ice through my veins.

The flapping of great wings was barely audible

as it swooped and swallowed the lizard whole.

My footfalls hastened onward.

I felt the unevenness underfoot,

and an inward stab of empathy.

How it stung me, that little death.

A hungry Kite. A meal without a plate.

But I, too, had recently eaten - such hypocrisy!

Another's life force ingested,

too deep inside now to rectify. It was my teeth

that had torn into a chicken's flesh,

albeit killed by an unknown predator.

I would like to take this opportunity to thank you all for your kind messages of comfort and support. I appreciate them so very much. I will visit you all again as soon as I can...

Please stay safe and happy😊 xxxxxx