Flying Lessons
by Clarence Wolfshohl

They are learning to catch currents,
and the lesson is a joy strung
out in a piercing call as they surrender
to the air, slide from above
my neighbor’s pond and their nest,
down the draw along the property line,
to Booth’s Branch at the bottom.
For a week each spring
the new brood of hawk’s fill
our air with the crescendo
of a ride beyond Wagner’s Valkyries.

Illya's Honey Literary Journal

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