Hawks Over Eagle Lake
Two hawks come roiling by,
their wings a sandstone brown
and scalloped like the teeth
of plows. They shovel down
within the wind and lift
the air, letting it sift
between their feathered grates
seeking a golden prey,
prospecting far-flung sky
while turning ground away.
A DIFFERENT FOURTH OF JULY
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I have looked for a suitable poem for the 4th of July this year. I examined
several old examples. All the while, however, there was a very unpleasant
feeli...
1 day ago
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