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Hurt Hawks

Rating: 3.3

I

The broken pillar of the wing jags from the clotted shoulder,
The wing trails like a banner in defeat,

No more to use the sky forever but live with famine
And pain a few days: cat nor coyote
Will shorten the week of waiting for death, there is game without talons.

He stands under the oak-bush and waits

The lame feet of salvation; at night he remembers freedom
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COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Taylor Graham 02 November 2009

I have trouble reading this aloud. It is to cry.

13 7 Reply
Ron Wallace 20 July 2008

Possibly the best poem ever written, unquestionably in the top five.

11 9 Reply
Michael Walker 10 November 2019

He was kind to look after a hawk and nurse it back to health.

1 0 Reply
Barbara Hall 13 February 2019

Powerful, tight and great writing.

3 0 Reply
Tedano 15 February 2019

Perfection.

0 0 Reply
Harvey 08 May 2018

Great poem, but the “lead gift” is a bullet, pronounced “led,” not the verb “lead.”

3 2 Reply
Nina Morzenti 19 September 2017

I, too, am crying, reading this even silently; also about his dear dog Haig...

3 2 Reply
Saiom Shriver 31 March 2012

Because of Ronbinson Jeffers, the world is a more compassionate place for the voiceless and powerless.

12 8 Reply