A red-tailed hawk cruises the wind
As is her nature
She casually looks from side to side
Plenty of space
All the time and possibilities in the world.
Sitting on a great grey rock
Above the tumbling silver river
One of the Old Ones of the valley
Wishes he were up there flying.
But he would be eyeing the clouds
The crowds of starlings
Bearing down from the left.
Mostly on his mind
Would be a place to land
And the passage of time,
And when it’s time to go
Then he will be flying!
So for now he sits
Sending love to the hawk
As is his nature.