Kestrel hovers, calling
Calling in a plaintive cry.
Rides the wind upward
Until, wings tucked,
He's falling, spiraling
Bullet-like across the sky.
Other birds sit up, take
Notice, chickadees chatter
Mourning doves sigh.
Not for them this
Unfettered acrobatic
Winged delight. They find
Their strength among
Their numbers, migrating
By the dark of night.
Eyes all glittering, they
Stop chittering, envying
Kestrel's solo flight.
(c) 2017, by Hannah Six
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