A hawk hangs low in the sky
Tethered by invisible string
Held, perhaps, by child’s hand or spirit
Above the grassy common.
A cloud rises from the ground,
A familiar place, trodden many times
When out of breath or
Clutching at the arm of a loved one.
Brambles and bushes, waning light
Birdsong fading with the day,
As twilight creeps into the air
Lifts you, and takes you away.