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Poems of a Feather

Hawk Watching

We stood on South Mountain,

watching a hawk catch thermals

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under his outstretched wings,

rising in slow spirals

like smoke rings

from a fire

deep in the valley below.

The hawk widened his circle,

his shadow crossing your face.

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I watched your eyes soften,

touched by his freedom,

and felt your hand tighten on mine,

as suddenly I recalled

my own dreams of flying.