A shadow moves
across my mother’s back yard
and I look up in time to see
the papa hawk in hunch mode
heading west.
I stand up
from my chair in the corner
and the mama hawk is there
and as she circles the neighbor’s big tree
whose name I need to learn
the one where the ravens like to sit
I see the waning half moon is there, too
and we are all of a piece
the moon
the hawk
the tree
and me.