Winter Visit

Walking through the airy house
naked from the shower,
a great commotion meets us in the kitchen,
a fluttering of wings,
a body beating and beating against the glass—
a sharp-shinned hawk,
too filled with youth and a hunger for juncos
to find its way
or to understand what holds it.

We think of you, dear friend,
timid, sunny,
filled with hunger,
coming on a winterís day to this house
you have not visited in a long time. Our hands
gentle you,
give their warmth,
bring you with their touch
to pleasure and release.


Fragile bird behind the jar of daffodils,
the yellow cere,
the black-tipped beak,
the golden eye
that glows with life and light.
We hold you without breathing.
We give you back to freedom—one stroke of wings
and you are gone
among the endless rooms of air.

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