Hawk sleeps



Night sky full of branches flailing,

frail as ancient bones,

stone to their marrow.

Sparrowhawk nods, sightless,

flightless until dawn—so far.

Stars wheel, a gyre,

higher than hawkflight,

night sky full of branches flailing.

Published by

Jane Dougherty

I used to do lots of things I didn't much enjoy. Now I am officially a writer. It's what I always wanted to be.

8 thoughts on “Hawk sleeps”

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