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."
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©
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
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