A perfect day on velvet hill

where wild garlic grows,

cabbage white seeks cabbage, and still wings stir.

 

This dreamy afternoon

the grass grows dry and warm.

The air wears the hum of the hoverfly

 

The young leave the warren,

play tag in the bracken, investigate the slopes,

bravely explore the other side, forget to hide.

 

Soundless, unseen, she circles above,

The raptor locks her eye, drops from blue canvas sky.

 

Swift and silent, she makes her kill,

Death comes daily to velvet hill.

 

One young rabbit, there are plenty left

for tomorrow’s picnic in the buzzard’s nest.