High on a thermaling spiral of air, the Red-tailed Hawk shouts, "Behold! I reign up there" With a cinnamon tail and a scream so bold, it flexes like, "Yes, I'm majestic, behold". But down swoops a Cooper's Hawk, fast as a dart, zig-zagging wildly like it's late for a part, it zips past the red-tail, who grumbles, "Show off..." while pretending its glide wasn't thrown wildly off. A Kestrel hovers in place like a tiny drone king, chirping, "Size isn't everything, check out my wing." The big hawks roll their eyes at the pint sized knight, but none dare mock him, he will start a fight. Than the Harrier flies by with a ghostly sway, owl-face glowing like moonlight in May. The others whisper, "Creepy,,," as it drifts on through, because harriers always look like they they know something you don't know too. And above them all, the Golden Eagle soars with flair, a massive shadow that darkens the air. The Hawks salute like, "Sir, yes Sir" because nobody wants a beef with a sky-borne tiger. So the raptors bicker, boast, and preen, each convinced they're the rightful queen. But ask any bird who rules the blue, they'll whisper , "The one with the sharpest view... and the loudest scream when lunch is due".
