some would have him worry about the hawk

 

her nest or roost in the tall pine a couple of places up from his

 

raw bits and pieces of her prey found by ants scattered in his yard

 

she has poor table manners

hed excuse her

                he excused dinner guests who should possess better manners than her but dont

talons arent as nimble as phalanges ought to be

 

after they departed he stripped stain-treated his linen tablecloth sweep crumbs from the floor and found odd glasses and coffee cups on shelves or behind planters

 

hes a sucker for natural inclinations and could abide sheer laziness

 

 

he thrilled at her cry the bustle of her feathers passing overhead her violent black shadow like broken glass erasing ghosts of tall seeded grass

 

his worry 

              if he imagined her gone if her bright lively spark in the sunlight suddenly were a disappeared mote  an echo in his eyes  his worry standing searching the blue sky the apricot trees the shadowed crowns of live oak 

to feel her zest flatten out inside of him her serrated edges dulled her acrobatics stilled  

white clouds drifting alone

 

her plummet and scorn fires his blood pumps his heart makes his soul race outside him like a child at play pointing Did you see that?! Did you see that!? and falling down laughing in delight in this yard of hysteria as only a child can

 

Thursday,  20  6. 13

0939,  Thursday,  4/20  ‘23