His first bold flight, a flash of blue, 
      he glided down a gentle arc
      onto a sunlit lawn below,

And sensed the sudden shadow's cold
      as feathers red above him broke 
      a hundred mile an hour stoop.

He felt sharp talons grip his chest,
      and loosed his piercing wail for help
      as chaos crashed about his world

When mother dove at raptor's head,
      and father cursed obscenities 
      which even dogs could understand

They struck the head with clawing feet,
      and screeching, pecking, flapped their wings
      before the gaping hunter's beak,

Who, not so hungry anymore,
      and careful of his precious eyes,
      in all the grand confusion thought

It best to drop his tasty lunch
      and lumber off, a wiser hawk,
      and seek a less encumbered hunt.

The jays, still cursing everything,
      although with somewhat softened voice, 
      convened a family meet above,

Where heartbeats slowed and breaths relaxed,
      in tones now low and comforting, 
      the parents gave their stern advice,

"Don't ever hesitate, dear child --
      just scream like banshee, claw at eyes,
      the secret to a longer life!"


            The image is a modification of 
            Bill Shissler's photograph 
            "Get Away Kid, You Bother Me"
            © BillShiss Photography).