In Way Of The Hawk

Photograph by J.G.

In The Way of The Hawk

Remember the first time
I realized I might never again
feel the weight of a man
resting against me.  Loss,
sharp and heavy rising
from belly to chest, expanding
until ribs might crack.

On occasion, that thought
still surfaces, swims to shore
leaving light footprints
on sandy beach as they move
inland, where

a hawk drops from her perch
and earth reaches to swallow.
She unfolds her wings,
unwinds the wind, becomes one
with air that surrounds her.

Slow rhythmic circles of lazy
pleasure celebrate fact
that she can:

Fly alone.
Solitary.
Singular.

Hawk would laugh at absurdity
of words I used to fear,
until she appeared to imprint
her pattern across my years.

She is.
I am.

“This,” she would tell me,
“is all that matters.”

*Originally published in Splitting Darkness: Poems by Elizabeth Crawford

Offered today for Poets United Think Tank poetry prompt: Animals
http://poetryblogroll.blogspot.com/search/label/The%20Thursday%20Think%20Tank%20Revisited

Process Notes for 6/9/11: The prompt asked what was the first thought at the word Animals? Furred, feathered, four-legged and more jammed into my head. Then this old poem separated from the jumble, accompanied by a much more recent photo taken by a friend in her backyard, and stayed. She was the first one to read the two shorter pieces that were finally put together and published in a chapbook outlining the grief process. Originally posted here two years ago, I figure it will be new to most of you, even though the photo might not be. Both are especial favorites for innumerable reasons.