Poetry

Prey for the Predator

Poetry written in the wake of 9/11

Photo by Richard Lee on Unsplash

The hunter turns loose the dogs
Takes aim
Drunk with hubris, shit-faced with unholy zeal
He has mistaken the dove of peace
For a clay pigeon
She falls at his feet, bloodied
Broken heart still beating strong
His triumphant, primal cry
Rends the air
With obscene lust
He pokes the tattered body
Plucks one dirty feather at a time
May God forgive him
As the Phoenix rises from the ashes
So she shakes off the soft, white plumage
To reveal the razor talons
Box-cutter beak
Of an eagle
Their cries rend the air
Gentle prey
Predator
Roles reversed
One
Quick
Slice

No mercy in the eagle’s eyes
As khamsin winds
Fill the hunter’s throat
With sand
His thirst for paradise
Unquenched