The Hawk and The Black Bird


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The Hawk and the Black Bird, by Dawn L. C. Miller

Window glass jarred at the sudden thrust.

On the lawn’s center by the bench

a sharp-shinned hawk

sat mantling her catch:

a grackle lay stunned under her slender talons.

An hour before,

the grackle had stood on the feeder

gazing and daring all comers.

His was the seed, the perch

the sun, his shining yellow eye.

His the muted rainbow moving on his neck feathers,

an avian auroral display.

Now the sharp-shin’s eye

in royal right and duty

held the sun’s gleam

and me

before she took flight with her prey hanging beneath her.

Below them, I waited,

a ghost to complete the trinity,

wondering which one to bless.

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