To the Hawk

By Kathy Elfgen

 

Trees along the interstate . . . .

Gold and red and green.

And then my eyes alight upon

The one I love to see.

 

Its you perched there in majesty,

pure stealth in that bare tree.

As I pass, I realize

that you are watching me.

 

How do you perceive me, now?

As friend - or foe - or prey?

I wish Id have a chance, per chance,

to discuss it with you today.

 

Brother Hawk.

if I would stop and sit awhile

beneath that tree youre in,

would you stay commune with me?

I long to be your friend.