The Hawk

Utagawa Hiroshige 1857
Print by Utagawa Hiroshige 1857

There was a poem in the

crow (or was it a starling?) circling

my yard, landing on my neighbor’s tree.

I could see a poem in the

golden hawk sitting on a branch,

flying off, tracked by three

black birds (or crows

or starlings.).

The three birds (and

the poem) weaving around

him.