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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