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Monday, May 4, 2015

Hawks at Dawn



At sunrise
three hawks
rode the updrafts,
wide open above the earth
new sun
butter on their bellies,
they disappeared
amid the sweep of pines,
emerged again
in the white-light backdrop,
circling, circling,
while the sky above them
warmed to ripe peach.
Only one wobbled,
beat its wings
thrusting toward space,
and for an instant
it seemed gravity must win,
the pull would be too much,
but digging in,
it powered on,
merged
with the carry and glide,
an aerodynamic glissade,
birds sliding on air,
coasting on wind and sky.

12 comments:

Alex J. Cavanaugh said...

I could see them!
Butter on their bellies. Great way to describe the light. Although it's a good thing they weren't turkeys...

Delores said...

I love it when the hawks come back. We have quite the population in this area. Lovely poem.....

Jan Morrison said...

What a lovely poem! Those hawks were here for a moment as I read it.

Madeline Mora-Summonte said...

Absolutely love the line about the "new sun, butter on their bullies." Just perfect!

Starting Over, Accepting Changes - Maybe said...

Just lovely. Your words put picture in my mind.

Bish Denham said...

Oooo, lovely! I know they aren't as "pretty" as hawks, but I love watching the buzzards soar. They are masters of the air currents.

Robin said...

Have you noticed that you are sharing more and more poetry on here? I love how you continue to grow and stretch as a writer. (And your poetry is so darn good!)

In totally unrelated news, after church yesterday we went to the seafood restaurant that we frequent nearly every Sunday (it's so good!). They have paintings scattered around the place. For the first time I noticed one not seen before... it was a boat sitting in the harbor and the sky was orange. Tinting everything orange. It was gorgeous. And still. Reflective. And I thought to myself, "Liza would like this painting." Maybe next week I'll take a picture of the picture!

Susan Gourley/Kelley said...

You paint a lovely picture with your words. I never get tired of watching hawks glide through the sky.

Joanne said...

I could feel the thrill of the soar. I love the word "glissade" - so pretty and descriptive. Great poem - welcome back. It's been awhile

Carol Kilgore said...

I could picture this as I read. Nice.

Michael Di Gesu said...

Beautiful imagery here, Liza... Nicely written. I can certainly see them.

Daisy said...

Birds sliding on air--I really liked that. Lovely poem.