Baby Hawk

Sparrows fluttering, chattering
crows sweeping from trees 
to telephone wires
something is happening
then I see it, a baby hawk
zooming in and capturing
one of them.

Their response is complete silence,
no movement from the feathered friends
hiding in the bushes, no cry  
from the sentinels above the rooftops,
no sympathetic plea for the unlucky one
when it is over, the hawk flies away.

After a moment they start to move
today they missed the threat
no emotion for the one who was sacrificed
the cost of living in the wild lands of suburbia.