Merlin|
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With one grey wingbeat | the merlin's humped rush bore above the steep ridge of thick sagebrush of schist and shale sherds riding the wind's will hunting for songbirds through a sudden still where only noon sun sang songs in welcome
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Then gone, trailing light | off canyon's high hill fallen out of sight while the wild sun still echoed yellow-eyed the bush sunflower and radiant sky swelled to courting airs a chorus of notes from chaparral throats
But black-voiced raven | coursed a far ledge chasing the merlin up a mortal wedge of arcs and attack scaling toward the sun seeking the bird's back then entered as one that blinding domain and stillness again
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