Hovering Poem by Gert Strydom

I drift on the wind
eying the world,
looking at things passing beneath me

and the whole sky is clear
stretching out blue and in the distance
changing in its hue

and I revolve watching for prey
hanging high, gliding almost endlessly
until suddenly finding it

and drop down at lightning speed
with the sun covering me,
materialising right upon my target

and with great skill
with outstretched claws and sharp beak
I make a perfect kill.