Happy Poetry Friday! Thanks to Ruth at the blog There Is No Such Thing as a God-forsaken Town for hosting this week’s list of poetry links and posts.
Back in winter 2011, when my children were still children, a hawk made a few visits to our backyard swingset. It was always an event, but especially that January, after a snowfall.
The poem is true to what happened that morning, and my feelings about it. But until last year “Hawk” remained unpublished.
I’m so glad that it appears–along with two other poems of mine–in Bay to Ocean Journal 2021 (from the Eastern Shore Writers Association). I have one copy of the journal to give away. Leave a comment if you’d like a chance to win the book at random. (U.S. only please.)
By Laura Shovan
It is young, feathers puffed against the cold,
standing on the old swing set’s beam,
talons deep in last night’s snow.
We crowd the back door, take turns
with binoculars meant for star gazing.
The children get bored, return to breakfast
while I look and look. The bird’s eyes
are goofy with surprise. It can’t figure out
how it came to our yard, why it’s perched
on a dilapidated a swing set. It stares at our house
as if it knew this place once.
It looks confused, the way we all do,
finding ourselves in an undignified moment.
The hawk raises one yellow claw
places it deep in snow, swoops away.
The children pack for school and are gone.
When I stop and hold still, I get a little dizzy
from the suddenness of it.