Cooper’s Hawk
Liam Walke
crows flap in the metal sky
a murder wake us at the window
over gutters, tar shingles - two bounds
to reach November’s weeping balcony
we follow the flail and kerfuffle of feathered
bodies to a garden
a woodyard of humus,
stumps melted to earth, copper
boughs over piled logs
cut, shredded
a ragged border to fledgling bushes
snow is heavy rain
She hops between stumps, her flecked breast
browned, barky - borne to the sparrow carcass
she grips in her claws. She holds tight,
head cocking side to side in the falling sky,
sparrow feathers blend into the leafy stump,
burnt ground, hefty winter air
crows look on
the pink feast
from cedars.
the rains are like snow
