Diane Schmolka, Officiant  
 

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dandp@gmail.com

 

Sparrow Hawk

I set out to tame you rare hawk of the plain holding fast your down wings your beak thrusting hard into my too eager thumbs, I bleed back into your underbelly while you look scornfully indifferent at me not wanting you to be a dead model I let you writhe yourself free twisting , screaming into the whimsical air why be a collector when I can now fly?

Diane Stevenson Schmolka (first written: Feb. 1973, revised: fall 2006)

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