Poem: The Morning After

A hawk made his entry

high above the pond,

gliding effortlessly

above the oaks,

above the poplars,

circling – circling,

always circling

high above

envious of fellow earthlings

looking for

a morsel or two


the first of February 2006,

the morning after

the President made his

State of the Union speech –

about our addiction to oil –

The hawk’s addiction, too,

for he has to be

the same hawk who

sits on the power line

just west of Warrenton

on Route 211,

that long and grand

straight-away passing

black, board fences

and fieldstone entrances

toward little Washington, Virginia

 – that same hawk –

– waiting and waiting –

– watching and watching –

– for road-kill –

– Preston Pulliam
(aka the Hazel River Bard)

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