Peregrine!
Zap! Through the gap
between our two semis,
just above my washing line,
way too fast for a catch
(and who would
without armor),
swear I could feel the draft
as it shot left of the bird feeder,
flickered right of my elder,
veered over Badger Avenue,
another garden away.
Lost it. No. Found it.
High in the sky she powers her prow,
slides by away. Gone!
Like a dream? No.
Like a snap of fingers over a face
for a wake-up call!
Peregrine!
Sleek, sharp, and versed.
Pigeon
Funniest thing, though (this is all straight up),
much, much later, when all the heat was off,
I saw a pigeon, and they can move it
when they want, follow the falcon's passage.
This was a hulk of a bird, Big Daddy
Big Mamma, Big Whatever, feather spread!
My head: (left) as it passes over roof;
(right) as it speed-beats through my garden, off -
same veer above the main road - so spot-on.
On landing back in yews it 'rootle-doos'
What was that all about then, big boss bird?
...
YOU ARE READING
Bare Shouldered
Poetry"The difference of high Sensations with and without knowledge appears to me this - in the latter case we are falling continually ten thousand fathoms deep and being blown up again without wings and with all [the] horror of a bare shouldered Creature...
