Photo: D. Slotto
The day they hatched,
we counted eleven.
Golfers halted play as Mama
led them from the water
to the safety of their nest
beneath thorny Bougainvillea.
The following evening
a hawk took up residence
in the leafy orange tree
between our houses.
And then there was none.
National Poetry Month, Day 12
Victoria C. Slotto, Author 
This almost made me cry, Victoria. As Viv said, it is life, and life is so much more fragile than I ever really knew.
Pamela ox
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I know it’s the cycle of life, but dang, you just made my heart sad.
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That’s life – sad but that’s how it is.
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I remember my daughter narrating a similar nature story as it played out on her college campus. Debate raged as to the human role in the drama. Observation and poetry seems like a good response to me.
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