My Hawk

I love the way she cries

Only does it when she needs to

She beats the sunrise to her totem overlooking the meadow

I try and catch her through binoculars, but what could be better than my naked eye

Then it occurs to me in this moment why I love her so much

She is what my soul wants to be right now

Thought clouds, one by one, passing by

But she is pure concentration

The weight of nothing but hunger on her shoulders

Not food, but sustenance

I might live my whole life trying to grasp the distinction