The Kites



A bird of prey, these kites,
Majestic and fearless they fly.
But a sad day it is,
When man lures it with meat.

On a tour to see these birds,
A boat ride into the mangrove swamp,
Not a kite was to be seen,
Until meat was thrown into the water.

Ramming his engine, our guide did,
A call to these birds of prey,
Flying low, almost touching the water,
Fishing out the meat with their claws.

Creatures of the wild turning cartwheels,
Performing to earn their keep,
Sweeping down low, catching their prey,
Of chicken bones and skin.

I aim my camera, shooting these birds,
Such flying, beautiful choreography,
Of nature still wild, still untamed.
Even though man interferes and meddles.

By C.E. Pereira


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