To rest
heart and head and bone
on pink-shouldered,
pink-hipped stone
laced gray with lichen,
and to see,
beyond the summit’s
curved, granite lip,
the peregrine arise —
winged wish
within the vast blue sky.
He dives,
snatches and tatters
the day’s cares –-
the week’s
the month’s
the year’s –-
in beak and talon.
A sun-soaked,
wind-tossed
promise.
— C.Birde, 9/16
2 Comments
wonderful images take the reader on a journey. the phrase “pink-hipped stone” is so fresh and so right, but the falcon rightfully takes over with its “sun-soaked/ wind-tossed/ promise.”
How often can I thank you for your kind comments? I am very grateful. So often, I feel the wildness of words trying to contain and distill what I feel, so that I can place them side by side on the page, to honor an experience. And you offer an insight that echoes back in concrete fashion. Thank you thank you. (No pressure! None!) I hope that I might do this for another some day, as well. 🙂