A mole’s account of being another animal’s dinner.

A mole about to disappear down a hole is caught by a hawk on the swoop.

“Come on, swallow me whole” said the mole to the hawk.

“I can’t do that”, said the hawk “or else I’ll boak and possibly choke to death.

Instead, I’ll peck at you with my beak until I break through and you become weak and no more”.

“For goodness sake snake, you’ve caught me now, I cannot escape.

Eating me is a piece of cake for you, all you do, unlike the hawk is swallow me whole.

You then digest all but my fur using the juices in your stomach over a period of days.

You enjoy me so much you cannot wait for your next meal of mole in the hole.”

“Come on fox I graduated from the school of hard knocks and I’m not going to be an easy dinner for you today.

Your great sense of smell led you here and if you want to eat me you’ve got to dig me out of the ground.

I will not give up without a fight, the thought of your bite will keep me tunneling away until the day becomes night.

Then not a sound filled the air, only the weight of despair came down hard in the form of a paw and then I was no more.”

“I’m just a measly morsel for you weasel, go off and hunt down a more substantial meal.

Perhaps a bird, a fish, a frog for main and a hedge of berries for desert hands down beats a meal of mole.

Digging hole after hole in the hot sun of the day for such a small reward like me is not a good use of your time.

Leave me alone to fight another day, come on weasel, what do you say?”

A poem by Stephen Austwick