Haiku: Hawk series

The last of my week of haiku for Frank Tassone’s ‘hawk’ haikai challenge. Thank you, Frank for the inspiration 🙂 The last, in this case, is first. The rest are recap.

Photo©Artemy Voikhansky



as a mountain torrent—



Hawk hangs, light trembles,

wheeling cloud and grey feathers,

keen as the north wind.


Open field, winter,

bare as bleached bones, yet hawk eye

sees each grass stalk bend.


Wind in feathers sings

of hawk-plunge and rabbit scream—

red blood on white snow.


No song, no peace bides

in this bird, cold fury drives—

survive in glory.


I would be

a hawk in the air and spit

in winter’s eye.


Through yellow-rimmed eye,

pure as winter stream water,

hawk watches the world.


Air, ice shard-cold


hawk passes.

Hawk drops

A poem using the word ‘groove’ for the dverse prompt.


Hawk drops from the branch,

fits into the groove of the air,

falls, buoyed up by the crisp

cold, slips with sleek feathered grace

along the furrowed field.

I wish I could fall with such ease,

slip into the stream of ice-blue breeze,

limber as hot-blooded hawk, not freeze,

tumble, rag-tag, with the hunched shoulders,

worry-burdened, of the clay-footed.