Survival (NaPoWriMo Day 2)

In the morning, the ashen hawk
moves, night spent
stunned at the top of the drive.

A labored trek to the low stone wall. Stretching,
spreading, weighting. A beat and a
heave to the nearby pine. One final rest, then

a painful launch to the sky, trusting
the currents to support
what the injury cannot.


Today’s prompt was from Poetic Asides: write a voyage poem.

Close call (haiku)

Three-chicken alarm

underneath the holly bush—

hawk surveys the farm.

hawkWe had a visitor this weekend who scared the girls while they were playing in the yard…but all is well.