The inspiration for this poem came from when I was studying food webs. When I'm writing about wolves or other predators, I like to see things from their point of view. I wolf hunts to feed its family and kills to save its pack. I have always remembered, though, the elk or the rabbit a predator kills. They had feelings (or I believe so) and maybe even a family. So this is the story of a hawk with a broken wing, and how he died to let his killer live.

The Bitter Wind

The wind howls its lonely song

I've to leave my life behind not long

A beauty forever, its voice and its sting

Thousands of sorrows for a broken wing

.

Of yesteryears I dream to sing

Thousands of sorrows for a broken wing

Never the bitter winds true fault

For ancient blood to one day halt

.

Their voices shake a dimming soul

Yet all I do is wish to be whole

The mountains cry heard never again

How sad to never catch that wren

.

The tumbling winds that brought me down

That broke my wing and shattered my crown

The king of the sky I was no more

No longer the bird of ancients' lore

.

A winter breeze sings only of death

For I have gasped my final breath

A russet fang the fates behold

To end a life that never grew old