Poetry from NHI publications
|WAYMARK CHESTNUT KESTREL|
Cast against the sky a clutch of branches|
swallowing our kestrel's slipping silhouette.
The dash of the bird was something we both heard
before we saw it, speaking against the tree
the lunge-language of any hunter on its way:
honouring the tree as much as those today
who shift their line of road because of it.
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