The female sparrow hawk, fierce,
glorious, hovers above her mate.
Menaboni sketches her with beak open.
I imagine her call, “killy, killy, killy.”
The male’s wings fold down;
his claws wrap around
the branch of Georgia pine;
his head twists around and up
to fix her with black, marvelous eyes.
His russet back is rounded but not meek.
She is set to hunt, is ready to fly wide and long.
He has just flown in. His belly almost full,
he’s at rest, reflective, quiet.
Perhaps she’ll settle close to her partner
or he’ll leave his perch to join her in fearsome flight.
The hawks will decide in their next quick moments,
but the artist has made his choice, and so does not care.
Nonnie Augustine
July 8, 2010
