Actually, we shall not presume to have the vision of this noble bird. While entertaining some friends, we heard a terrible squealing outside our door. The fearless Mrs. Madville Times investigated and found this hawk killing a screaming rabbit. (So where was this hawk in the spring, when rabbits were eating our budding sunflowers?) The hawk then launched into the air and perched on our front porch, red in beak and claw [see Canto 56], and gave us his stern look, as if to see, "Don't even start with your liberal pinko be-nice-to-animals malarkey."
No malarkey here, Mr. Hawk. Hawks gotta eat, and rabbits are good eatin'.
The Madville Times welcomes cogitation and commentary on the metaphorical significance of the hawk's appearance during our discussion with our friends, one of whom is in Army intelligence and may be sent to kill or be killed some day, about how we should deal with Iraq.
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