Schiehallion Buzzard

Posted by in Poems on Dec 2, 2011

SCHIEHALLION BUZZARD

 

What, other than your right

sustains you over the warm hills

in the angel sphere, tacking loops

 

like a lazy tailor with a long thread?

Suddenly, with a tilt of wings

you vanish in a clear sky

 

Shadowless, hiding in light.

But you are there again. The sky fills

With your proud flight, slow as ropes

 

from a boat, tense and slack on the flood.

If I had a harp with strings

spun from birds’ whiskers, I

 

might sing your godliness, despite

your ineluctable, measured fall,

mewing out a mouse from its hole.