There is a family of hawks living in my neck of the woods,
which might explain
the piercing jolt of eyes
digging into my back
everytime I step outside.
I give them more thought than I ought to.
Hawks, February 1st 2017
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PROSE
Puisithe pen may be mightier than the sword, but that sword certainly thirsts for more blood (if you like me, vote me if you love me, show me)
