JANE AN A SPARROWHAWK 1961

A BOY AND GIRL WATCHING A SPARROWHAWK IN 1961

And Jane shows me
a sparrowhawk in the sky
hovering there
powerful and merciless

made to kill
like a flying
machine of death
so I'd read

in a book on birds
I'd bought
they kill
she says

but that's their nature
but there's beauty
there up there
in the air

I stand beside her
feeling her
presence near
her hand close

to mine
her dark hair
blowing in the wind
as we watch

the hawk hovering
there against
the wind's pull
and push

her dark eyes
holding on
to the sight
then it dives

and whoosh and zip
a bird has been snatched
and of and away
and we watch

both sad and thrilled
not by the killing
but by the show
of skill and flight

she looks at me
and says
glad I'm not
a small bird

waiting to be taken
like that
but as Daddy says
all things are

in God's hands
I say nothing
just want to hold
her hand and feel

her warmth
and skin and pulse
we walk on
across the field

her hand just
touching mine
skin on skin
the wind moving us

on like two birds
in flight
not towards a death
or dying

but hopefully
to a love
or deeper love
worth trying.

Reviews

[Beccy]

Five decades pass, yet still the poet's interpretation of a blessed memory enfold the reader.

This is a lovely, heartwarming poem and absolutely the kind of poetry I enjoy.

Beccy.

[Terry Collett]

Thank you, Beccy