Red Tailed Hawk
Talk about strutting your tail-feathers,
and using your assets to get what you want,
when calling card
is no gambit or bluff to flaunt-
In the crimson sky, read taled,
"Glinted Eye", air siren wails
like a little Banshee crossed with Harpy Eagle
getting squirrely-with drifting,
chasing a pantry, sifting.
Shifting winds Wings outstretched,
a dance of grace and the Imp aerial,
serial predator with eyes that see all.
In silence they hunt, in character
they are found like a-spirit bound
to dive and move to strike like lightning
that could take the keys from a kite,
deliver it to lost and found in a single pass
then bolt onto the earthen or serpent mound
for a snack o ripe.
Picking, the time and the place,
to descend from the cloud-face.
A creature of freedom, a seeker
in the wild, it roams without shame,
blame it on the shifting sands-
and Time's dial ectic ding,
turn of style.
The real shame is not to lay your eyes upon
those diabol feathers of fire,
their presence a chakraic idol that evokes
a primal sense of desire.
Bear witness and be thou humbled in awe from this majestic bird,
to hunt like a machine without mood or fear,
in the vast expanse of the open sky, soars above,
perseveres.
Copyright ©
Jude Herrick
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