Bird Strike

For hawks, there's no speed limit in the sky No air traffic control can intercept them Their bird strikes are wing on wing At Battersea Power station High upon mast or crane Peregrine's piercing eyes survey the scene Merciless, he stoops, Beheading a dove or buzzard He falls like a guillotine He may nest on the houses of parliament Tate modern, the sides of the hospital At Charing Cross From cathedral or skyscraper He swoops at break-neck speed 200 mph of instant death Monogamous, he mates for life Cossets his gap-beaked brood No more countryside for him He's king of the London skies