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To the Hawk By Kathy Elfgen

Trees along the interstate . . . .
Gold and red and green.
And then my eyes alight upon
The one I love to see.

Its you perched there in majesty,
pure stealth in that bare tree.
As I pass, I realize
that you are watching me.

How do you perceive me, now?
As friend - or foe - or prey?
I wish Id have a chance, per chance,
to discuss it with you today.

Brother Hawk.
if I would stop and sit awhile
beneath that tree youre in,
would you stay commune with me?
I long to be your friend.