Wings paint an invisible
language on sky
that only birds know.
Redtail Hawk speaks, stroking
the updraft,
reading the moments until dive
and fall and fall
upon the garter snake below who
believes
she is hidden.
Her snake body wrings along into
a gopher hole
placed in perfect opposition to
hawk-arrow
and bird-meal.
The snake knows how lucky she
is this time;
the feather shadows tell her so,
the whispering air sweeps luck
across her ribs
as she glides into freedom,
air just released in hawk’s
metallic cry
of defeat.
J. Pratt-Walter, (c) 2020
