A hawk swoops low
and I want to know
what it is like
to be a hawk.

My heart 
wants to soar high
to see the sky 
with my arms
open wide
flying on a breeze.
To see the world
from the hawk's
point of view.

To lift
and slide.


To  g
        l
         i
          d
           e.

      I started counting the birds I saw on my morning walk. Quail, dove, cactus wren, goldfinch, gila wood pecker, hummingbird, phainopepla .  And as I was busy cataloguing the birds I know, overhead soared a hawk. Oh, it looked so graceful.  I think it was out scouting for breakfast.  And then in a heartbeat, I heard the coyotes in the canyon yipping up a racket.  They must have found something to eat for breakfast too.  It was a great morning! 
    If you could be any bird of your choice, what would you be?  Can you write a poem about the bird?  Have fun writing.