Tuesday, August 22, 2017


"From plane of light to plane, wings dipping through 
Geometries and orchids that the sunset builds, 
Out of the peak’s black angularity of shadow, riding 
The last tumultuous avalanche of 
Light above pines and the guttural gorge, 
The hawk comes. 
 His wing 
Scythes down another day, his motion 
 Is that of the honed steel-edge, we hear 
The crashless fall of stalks of Time."

from Evening Hawk
by Robert Penn Warren

No comments: