Hawk & Sunlight, January 21, 2015

This was one I wrote in late 2o14. It wrote it for a picture challenge on a Facebook page. It's funny how poems evolve while you're writing it. The original inspiration may be a picture, a drawing, or whatever. However, once you start writing, it starts to take on it's own life which might be autobiographical in some ways and just straight-up imagination. Writing poetry is such a combination of artistic influences. And there's also structure . . . structure that communicates the intangible ideas (or emotions) of a poem.

Hawk &Sunlight

 

I can barely make you out. This Oklahoma sun

transforms your shape into a bright yellow shadow

floating across a sea of burnt grass.

 

I love watching the blur of your hips

as they bounce up and down
beneath the protective shield
of your cotton umbrella sail
that dances with your hair
in the warm summer breeze.

 

I also love the way you abruptly stop,

swing your head towards me and smile.

 

“What are you doing back there?”

 

Tiny dust devils blossom around my shoes

as I rush to catch up with you.

 

And I love talking to you about this and that

steering away from conversations concerning
the weather, the goings on in Ferguson, New York,
or those other terrible places that seem
so far away from where we are right now.

 

Yes, we can talk about important things some other time.

But not today. Not in this miserable heat
that makes your eyes glisten like rain drops,
makes my head ache and wish I had worn a hat.

 

For now let’s gossip a bit about that black hawk

silently gliding across the harsh sky
right above our heads. You can see him
if you shade your eyes with your hand.
Yes, let’s talk about him.
rrw 12-o5-14