Mercy
I see her.
If hawks could roar, her voice would echo off the silent trees.
Instead redtail’s plaintive cries enter my ears without fanfare
Even cardinals and doves congregated at the feeder
Pay no mind to her whine. Dove’s demise comes mid contented coo.
WhimsyGizmo (aka De Jackson) is today’s host of dVerse. De says:
Today, as we head into the new roaring 20s, I want you to urge your words to roar.
image link here
Tao Talk 
This is good thank you
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Thanks!
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Ooooo. This is so ominous:
“Death comes mid contented coo.”
She’s a beauty, for sure, and so is this gorgeous piece.
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Thanks De!
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Death can be so beautiful… maybe that’s what we see (and hear)
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I do wonder though that a hawk’s scree doesn’t heighten alacrity below.
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I had to look up alacrity. You never know!
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I have a Sharp shinned hawk that preys on my feeders- wow, they are so fast!
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The red-tailed one here must but have never seen her take any of the birds (or squirrels.)
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Beware death coming amid the contented coo, little dove! So descriptive.
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Wow! Not a bad way to go…contented coo. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a hawk, only in pictures.
Pat
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I think the hawks would prefer it that way (not being seen.) ;)
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I like the ending with “contented coo”.
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Thanks Frank!
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I get the death theme
and many of the feelings.
well done.
love the pic
But here are my wonders of the poem:
Title is “Mercy”
So, first line says, “I see her”
It makes me think “her ” is mercy but rest does not follow
so I think, “No, it is something else”
Oh, maybe the poem needs the pic, so I am suppose to think “Hawk”.
But you make haws plural so it is death?
You see death?
But death has a plaintive call? Why would death be plaintive.
Oh, maybe it is the prey she is talking about.
May the hawk sees the prey, but next line talks about hawks like the speaker is not a hawk.
So, who is the “I” and who is the “her” in the first line?
I am guessing the I is you. And the “her” is some bird the hawk kills. But I am guessing.
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I appreciate your feedback, Sabio, thank you. Check it out now, maybe it is more clear. Mercy for me is that the dove was not fearful at the time of death and it was a quick death.
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Yes, helps a bit. Because you asked here is more:
But, as Kooser says, I’d let the title guide the reader slowly and also the first line
Title: A Red Tail’s Cries
So the first line: I see her. Makes clear who “I” and “her” are.
But the second line is still odd to me:
If hawks could roar, her voice (who, the red tail– red tail dove or red tail hawk)
And what is the fanfare — what would fanfare be?
See, I get lost.
But I am a bad reader of poetry.
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Again thanks for feedback, I will think about a better title. Maybe I should think about making this a first person poem. E.G. If I could roar, my voice… With fanfare involving birds, it might be they all take flight to get away from the menace… Your thoughts help me polish my poem, and they alert me to my sloppiness.
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Hawks can be very swift sometimes there is mercy and other times there is suffering.
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Interesting piece. Great descriptions. Nicely done.
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Thank you, Arcadia.
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I like your poem Li.
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Thanks, Sadje :)
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A pleasure Li
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Hawks are beautiful animals and I love seeing them fly and chase the other animals.
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Birds are indeed amazing
Happy Monday
Much✏love
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Thanks much, Gillena!
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Excellent turn of phrase❤️
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Thanks Jude!
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my pleasure
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I love watching birds, but hawks are quite rare here. I’ve seen one or two. I like the phrase ‘her voice would echo off the silent trees’ and the way the silent coo wraps up the dove’s demise so neatly. Thank you for bringing the scene at your bird feeder to life, Jade.
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Glad you enjoyed the poem, Kim.
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Wonderful, though sad, and something I have experienced a few times, poignant.
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Paul, thank you.
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Most welcome Lisa.
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A backyard tragedy. Well done, Jade.
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Thank you, Judy.
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Or, in other words, “Be careful out there.”
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Maybe, or maybe just the opposite… it’s gonna get you when it’s gonna get you. Enjoy life until then.
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It seems you are equating mercy with the bliss of ignorance – both the superimposed ignorance doled out by the predator and the deliberate ignorance of the prey. A very subtle comment on where we are today politically. Probably I’m reading way to much in these forty-four words, but making us think is part of a poet’s job, as is on creating vivid imagery – kudos on both counts!
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I wonder if there is such a thing as a poet who isn’t part sociologist, part philosopher, part naturist? You’re right, Christine, there are a lot of ways to look at the scenario. Your comment is very much appreciated!
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If hawks could roar – I like that.
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:) Glad you like it, qbit, thank you.
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