As It Flies

across the sky a thin line of clouds is

painted by the currents of the wind,

gusts of it blow the birds off course

and too little aalows the falling rain,

around in circles, she flies looking

for her lost children who left the nest

last spring and have not returned three

months later...  fearing the worst, she

hunts for hunters near the edge of the

ridge where the last one she saw, sat...

all that is left is his rifle and blue hat;

across the sky a thick ribbon of blue

stretches as far as the eye can see...

the rain has stopped and the sun

appears more than momentarily...

whistles and shrills of shrieks echo

down through the valley as if it were

the great canyon our west with the 

deep walls and fast moving river thtt

has cut through the stone for thousands

of years without purpose or direction.

April 16, 2023