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Dillard Sissman

 The buzzards wheel slowly
In wide circles, in a sky
Faintly hazed as from dust from the road.
And a wind sweeps through the pasture where I lie Beating the grass into long waves.
My kite is above the wind, Though now and then it wobbles, Like a man shaking his shoulders; And the tail streams out momentarily, Then sinks to rest.
And the buzzards wheel and wheel, Sweeping the zenith with wide circles Above my kite.
And the hills sleep.
And a farm house, white as snow, Peeps from green trees -- far away.
And I watch my kite, For the thin moon will kindle herself ere long, Then she will swing like a pendulum dial To the tail of my kite.
A spurt of flame like a water-dragon Dazzles my eyes -- I am shaken as a banner!

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