Red Kite, 4pm

Circles.   Shared in underlying measure
with some swifts that flicker higher,
deft and dark, obsessive on another prey; 
its curving beak mewls plaintive calls
but also sates its blood’s desire;

it is a silent beatless soar of wings
outstretched to ride the wind
in heedless majesty, against the void; 
arching once or twice towards a stall –
an almost-stoop, a trigger not released –

before its tail again controls the flight
which carries those unblinking eyes,
quartering the ground;
although no quarter will be asked, or given,
in the hunters’ sky.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s