March blowing around the trees,
lioning the early days, blowing in
a pale gold hawk to sun on a low branch.
Occasionally, wind ruffling his soft feathers
but his sharp eyes, the deadly straight brow
like an arrow across his head,
dark and pivoting, endlessly hunting.
lioning the early days, blowing in
a pale gold hawk to sun on a low branch.
Occasionally, wind ruffling his soft feathers
but his sharp eyes, the deadly straight brow
like an arrow across his head,
dark and pivoting, endlessly hunting.
lovely work-- carefully crafted and startling, evocative imagery-- xxxj
ReplyDeleteLovely, Lorna. I like "lioning the early days" and your description of the hawk with its "deadly straight brow... endless hunting."
ReplyDeletelorna, one would think with spring a certain ease, but there is no ease here, rather, there is danger.
ReplyDeletexo
erin