I saw a kettle of
hawks winging circles
in the sky

my eyes squinting
because the sun
is so intense
[after an overcast rain]

I haven't seen the sun since God knows when.
and
I haven't seen a hawk since I was home, again.

I saw three brown hawks
flying circles
in the sky

over hazy mountains,
blue, cold, hazy mountains
on the corridor of
I-5

and I took a breath with the
windows down
and shout out
my loudest sound,
face in the wind,
hair flying back
like a wing on the wind

and I remembered
Summer in the valley
with you and a
dandelion, barely brushed
by the breeze
and you

and the sound of a cow
no different than
the sound of your breath
no different than
the sound of your heart as
I leaned against you.

I never knew I loved
a kettle of hawks,
so,
in the sky.