remembering coleman "the hawk" hawkins
(1909-1969)
the cry of the hawk
a tone fat, not loud;
full, like rotund soapwheels in circles round
bubbles, distended spherical
incredibly fragile shapes,
flecked with swirling
& shimmering color,
& round soaring higher
than any other
now sweeping past in
long poignant curves like
al khayyami's mysterious digit
moving inscribing
on the heart
love’s recondite cipher
proclaiming the hawk,
nay betraying the hawk,
as midas’ reeds did
with discordant gossip,
king.
©Joseph McNair; 2008
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