Trajectories #15

The hissing all night through the palm fronds
gives warning that the Cooper’s hawk
comes to ride the cold air
when the doves awaken
with a shiver in their bones, and is
beautiful to watch
as he cuts a smooth curve
in flight while a few bright minutes
appear between the grey hours
and his wingspread shines
at the speed of morning light. Hope and despair
follow, each taking a turn
before the other pushes back. So
it goes as some new revelation
swoops down
from out of hiding
and flies away faster
than the evidence can prove
it was here. A circling flock
between the rooftops and the rain
argues for survival while the mountain
shoulders a mass of clouds, begging
the question of how much
the truth can ever carry
of what bears down every day
as today
with its intermittent showers
of mendacity.

David Chorlton, a longtime resident of Phoenix, Arizona, who has a European past rooted in industrial Manchester, England, and cultural Vienna in Austria. The latest chapter of his writing life is Speech Scroll, a long poem due from Cholla Needles Press in Joshua Tree, California. Read other articles by David.