Dark eye of brown hawk on light pole glints

as sun climbs over prairie dog town,

all hummock and shadow,

where lone dogs surface

like pop-tarts.

Hunger takes wing.


©Dana Hughes 9.18.19

One thought on “Hawk

  1. I love the physical shape of this poem, narrowing from opening line to end, suggesting the narrowing life span of the prairie dog. I also love the dispassionate vision of impending death, communicated through the contrast between light and dark—a little poetic chiaroscuro. And of course, there is the Hughesian irreverence in the analogy to pop-tarts, reminiscent of “Old Man with Cracker.” That touch, always so deft and delicate, is how I know it’s really you. Well done. Again. As always.

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