I live near a hayfield thats cut twice a year, and its on the path i walk everyday.
Invariably when i walk past after they cut it, theres many small animals who just didnt get away from the mower, and it sadens me to no end.

"food for thought"

i spot a fat hen
a meal for my den
but what is that noise?
ignore it i cant lose my poise
i stalk to the pheasent
its fat, plump, and smells quite pleasent
readying my strike, hoping im not sensed
every ounce ready, muscles are tensed
but i pause
that damn noise what is its cause?
ignore it i must
loud and harsh, but harmless i trust
i ponder this bird, this fat little pheasent
as scarce as foods been, its a great little present
i thank God for providing this meal
but whats that vibration i feel
its from that noise, its coming near
what is this noise which im beggining to fear
more important than some little noise
is food for the vix and our boys
so i stay and wait my chance to pounce on my prey
must catch this bird colored in gray
gone is my bird, scared by the clatter
my chance is gone, but i pay it no matter
ill soon find another
to take home to my lover
engulfed by the dreadful sound
all thoughts are now drowned
preoccupied with my quarry
it snuck onto me in a hurry
i finally turn to run
what i find is no fun
a metal beast with teeth like some huge evil horse
its cutting the grass,no compassion, no remorse
frozen with fear i no longer make haste
its a shame, such destruction, such waste
its teeth have found me, im the prey now
for the big metal beast, not knowing why nor how
no more birds gray of feather
not this night, no longer, not ever
i didnt abandon you all, not on purpose at least
my last thoughts were of you,gone now i am, a little red fox, forever deceased

  ~Nobunaga The Red~