house of happy

Life adventures in prose and verse. Explorations of places, people and words. Stories and fun.

Wednesday, 3 October 2012


Falcons on the lace
of the morning sky
silent, free and
one too many: Three.

Careless grace. They fly
(feather, fierce eye and
wing to wing) like chasing
clouds and lightning, sun?

And then one
sweeps down upon another
Sky too small
for all.

It looks like dancing
but one is floating
and one is felling, killing
and one is hurting, falling, crying.

Then only two are flying.



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