publishing poetry only

Monday's Poem

I live in St. John's, NL. Work as a teacher and write poetry. Have been published in various magazines including Tickleace and Voices from the Rock. Wrote "Hawk" many years ago. Hawks have appeared throughout my life at opportune times in the most unlikely places. I am always thrilled by their "fan of wings."

© 2009 Joan MacIntosh

You Watch Hawks

Your heart vaults
as a hawk
in the garden
coils talons
over swaying hydro lines
before it closes
it's fan of wings

Once, you carried your gun
up Waterford mountain
gold leaf near your cheek
deer between birches
hoof clattered rocks

You watch hawks because you're a hunter

Above Cow Head
a hawk glides
into tuckamore
horizon deepens, grows sapphire
hawk soars somewhere
you can't follow

In White Bay, you said
hunting the barrens
felt cleaner then home
No rotten fence, lost farm
dying family
shadows your heart

You want to roam somewhere
love can't follow

You watch hawks because you're a hunter