mother's wings
have you seen how
the hawk
upon the wind rides godlike
as death sharp-
eyed wings dried red
and the little nesting bird
rising up from chick beaks
and sticks
how she will harry about his back
the flurry of wings
her sharp arcing lines
the grace of her desperation
love
all the flurry of her wings
the slow circling
of his rising retreat
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