I measure my days by
How many hawks I’ve seen.
One hawk is a so-so day.
Two hawks are better.
Some days I catch them
Sunning themselves on telephone wires
Or gliding slowly above me as if
They are beckoning me to follow
And follow I do with my
Animal spirit strength,
Clear and in the moment,
I soar above myself
Pulling clouds along and
Raking my talons across winter-closed earth
Terrorizing the rodents of my indifference
With ink-dark wing shadows
Stretching out toward
Possibilities.
