The Hawk
Across the bristled and sallow fields,
The speckled stubble of cut clover,
Wades your shadow.
Or against a grimy and tattered
Sky
You plunge.
Or you shear a swath
From the trembling tiny forests
With the steel of your wings
Or make a row of waves
By the heat of your flight
Along the soundless horizon.
---
Raymond Knister (1889-1932)
from Poetry, April 1924
[Poem is in the public domain in Canada and the European Union]
Raymond Knister biography
No comments:
Post a Comment