Certainly, I would like feed back. I'm super busy at work, planting season just finished and harvest time is fully upon us so I don't have time or energy to work on it. This is just to say if I don't reply is is not due to offence.
It's really quite good, and stands on its own as an admirable haiku.
I think it's OK if haiku have a title, but others who are more purists don't. I've done it both ways, and I must say, when in a bind, the few extra explanatory syllables add a huge percentage increase that often explains just the right context. I did this with my "Ryoanji" haiku that I think I posted elsewhere on this thread.
But I'm going to try to see if the whole scene in all it's depth can be captured without the title, although - since all of us here know what the poem's about - that may also be cheating a bit. In other words, my haiku here, for a complete strangers with no frame of reference, may make no sense. (which is exactly why I threw in the work "hawk," as you'll see.)
My initial corrective reactions to your haiku were as follows, and may point you towards improved writing overall in the future because they address common probelems found in all sorts of writing, and because they are easy to correct or avoid once you know to look for them.
Line 1. In something as compact as a haiku especially, extraeous or duplicate words must go. Either "staring" or "transfixed" are good words that convey much the same general meaning, so only one is needed. They are both of the same syllable count, so that doesn't matter here. Emotionally, "transfixed" is more powerful, but ""staring" is actually more accurate from a visual standpoint, and I chose that one to add a bit of visual realism to the scene. Again, either word alone is great, depending on the emphasis.
The word "caught," with it's crisp, definitive sound, is great, and if the meaning is not captured elsewhere or in some other way, it would serve well. On the other hand, "trapped" is more powerful, and perhaps more accurate.
Line 2. Two syllables can be freed up by getting rid of "her" & "and." Indeed, without those two words/syallbles, the meaning is even more starkly conveyed: "... between hunger, fear ..."two more syllables to work with, and you have two more syllables to work with.
While I admit that the visual and verbal constructions which I use in the first two phrases of line two adequately meet the syllabic requirements, and roughly convey the storyline, I also freely admit that they are quite unsightly and awkward. The phrase, "butt ugly" would best describe their poetic attractiveness, but they do capture - in my current opinion - the the matter at hand, however crudely. However, if I was to refine this haiku over vast stretches of time, line two would certainly be the focal point of my efforts.
Line 3. "The whole world freezes." This line should be the most powerful. It is the weakest. I wrote a tutorial or such in the "Resources" section of this web site, entitled, "Focal Point Bonsai Design." I think it is important to keep the idea of a focal point in mind in any work of art, whether visual art like bonsai, or a poem such as you have presented here. The focal point here is to capture a split second in time when a wild animal decides to overcome fundamental protective instincts that have evolved over eons, in order to trust, out of necessity (hunger in this case), another creature which her species has always viewed - with evolutionary success - as dangerous. This forced conflict is the focal point, made important to us humans because we want - but don't need, necessarily - the thrilling experience of this collaborative bonding and hunting with another species.
Therefore, I don't think "the whole world freezes" is not at all accurate for the hawk in the same way that it is accurate for you. The stakes are much, much different, but you can't convey any of this to her. She's trapped, and rightfully petrified to go against her instincts. You, as the dominant species in general, and the one literally holding her fate in your hands, are the one with vastly superior intelligence, an intelligence that understands the benefits to the bird in ways she can not imagine. You, but not her, know that both of you will treasure your lives together hunting, and that you both will treasure the bond between you. She knows only hunger and fear in that moment.
For this reason I bring you back into the poem, where you belong. This is not a poem about the hawk. This is a poem about you, and your longings for a life together with the hawk.
The ending of my second line, and my third line, therefore shifts the poem back to the first person perspective, not as a mere observer of the struggling hawk, but as the cause - which I consider ultimately noble - of the hawk's current struggle and suffering.
So here it is: Slings and arrows are as welcome as any sort of kinder - but perhaps less accurate - thoughts/opinions.
New hawk stares - frozen.
Hunger?/Fear! Leap?/Stay! Me too -
Two?/One! Can't we hunt?!
