That smooth oval body, compact, /
plumage dark, dappled, seamless, /
talons gripping the backyard fence, /
scimitar head a slow swivel /
searching for mice in leaf duff. //
Imagine those hollow bones /
that make flight easy, light. /
Hawk waits, patience its profession. Then /
lifts off, that grand transformation–/
a winged thing, gone.
2 responses to “Hawk Sighting”
This is wonderful, Karen! “… scimitar head a slow swivel…” Wow….
Hey Teach, Like it like it! But I couldn’t remember what kind of style poetry that is?