Redhawk Caldera Heartsigh.

tawny lark awoke with a squeal and a snort,
nose in the air like a ship in port —
she wriggled, she wobbled, she rolled on through,
the scent of breakfast guiding her true.

a squirm, a flop, a tiny crawl,
she tumbled right over fairywren’s sprawl,
then—ah! the prize! so warm, so near,
she latched without a hint of fear.

a suck, a gulp, a greedy hum,
her tail gave one triumphant thrum;
while milk dripped sweet from mom’s dismay,
tawny lark dined like queen of day.