the hawk
raptor sometimes called
black death or stealthy fighter
hawk owns names proudly
hawk
hawk soars above clouds
then dives fearlessly toward prey
clever is the hawk
If I had the sharp talons of a raptor
I would swoop down and crush walnuts
digging the meat out with my giant claws
If I had her wings
I would fly up past my oak tree
gliding beside the clouds
my sharp eyes hunting for rabbits
With a fist full of daggers it descends upon its prey
Dropping like a meteor without the light of day
But no rocky harbinger, this bearer of last light
It's gift eternal night borne on the softest wing of flight
Envy, and wonder, consume the pondering breast
Was it oversight or blunder that left us so unblest
Since the point where first we leapt, we long have sought the wing
Yet clumsy sad contrivance is all that we can bring
'sif chitin brought to shiny curve, could match the kite its wing
Still our eyes reach skyward, as if prince had been king
Our reach forever past our grasp… we're left to pine and sing
Oh we can bring the night to those we deem worthy of rest
But soaring on the breath of life is not how we've been blest
But rest assured in this one thing we share with those of wing
Squawk, or screetch, or melody, we too, can laugh and sing
Breathe deep as though it be your last, and fill your soul with song
Then let fly with the breath of life… sing loudly, if not long
saw a raptor glide down today
toward the tree line of my forest
I wondered at his purpose
was he hunting or merely loving life?
I marveled at his glide
wishing it had been my own
a howling dawn wind
an owl screeched from the tree top ~
raptor rhapsody
rough river water
rapids tempt hungry eagles ~
dangerous prey dive
grey falcon feathers
hidden amongst forest pines ~
raven nesting raid
4/2/23
RAPTOR
sparrow hawk alights-
the chattering
stops
just one flap of wings-
the raptor makes its kill
pouncing down at will
winged raptor's high perch
moonlit field carefully scanned
flight triggers panic
Tremble
by Michael R. Burch
Her predatory eye,
the single feral iris,
scans.
Her raptor beak,
all jagged sharp-edged thrust,
juts.
Her hard talon,
clenched in pinched expectation,
waits.
Her clipped wings,
preened against reality,
tremble.
Originally published by The Lyric
“Raptor of death! Wherefore seek'st thou me?” Poe's
Raven craves me during the hours of night,
an omen of despair that brings no light;
but instead gives birth to all my dark woes,
tears, doom, and pain that only God well knows.
At midnight, when the moon reaches its height,
Poe's evil Raven plagues me by moonlight;
then multiplies a thousandfold my sorrows!
O, where have I sinned and transgressed, dear God,
that I must suffer from this sad despair,
this disease of the soul (like a heathen unshod)!?
No matter; I'll write hymns for Thee, then bear,
and drink my cup of woe, grief, then praise, laud
Thee still: and wait for Thy help to appear!
wildflowered meadows
leverets play hide and seek
keen-eyed raptors search
RAPTOR
Forgive me…..
as my silent shadow
…..stalks
…….your city streets.
There is no malice
……no evil
…….no hidden desire
….only hunger’s need
screeching…
in a swaying
…..tree top
…….aerie
flapping wobbly wings
……imitating instinctual
…..necessity.
I cannot read
…..the posters
….nor shed a tear
……nor feel your sadness
for time
….has etched these needs
……upon my wings
while you
……have altered
……..the environs
…..of my hunt.
Forgive me……
as my silent shadow
……stalks
…….your city streets.
©2/27/2017
submitted to - An Unwanted Guest – Poetry Contest
Though a unique bird in the regular flock,
I flew and fell at every block.
Sky is the pinnacle of my juvenile dreams.
The one I fear, will soon feint in flames.
Watched as my bloods conquered the night.
soaring to touch the pitch black sky.
Hope is waning as I end the verse.
But my wings won't concede till I mount the hearse.
So swift, no sound
Like death bearing down
To carry the young one away
We all gave chase
At a desperate pace
But the Raptor
Was not brought to ground
The sky screams,
air is thick.
Seconds like days,
years 'tween each tick.
Tit for tat the raptors dance.
Each step wounds, talons like bayonets.
Earth below quakes at each traded blow.
Foundations shaken by spat of foes.
Frosted, frozen, clad in ice.
The world stands still, fear the vice.
The center may boil, but winter-wrapped still
She cannot reach out, no pow'r to stop the kill.
Alas, Earth stands back and wills done be the fray.
Final thundering shrill shrieks, 'tis gone for today.
The scars still remain,
Unbeknownst to they that tread.
Earth still feels the pain,
Still feels gelid winter's dread.
capably balanced
wing form swept from curling wave
certain of heaven
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