Drifting in the sky
At angles closer to degrees
He sifts through the wind
and waits.
He has been waiting for hours
For the perfect moment
For the right second
Where Confidence
outweighs commonsense
and in a rush of sound
-A horrible shifting of air
beneath wing-
He traps my darling bird in iron claws
and rips her to the ground
The softest of final struggles 
before the resounding and eerie silence
of defeat.