share


Cooper’s Hawk

My breath’s the wind’s breathless down-stroke
hasty claw like the gnarred finger of juniper
just now clambering for a scrap of your cloak
or your flimsy cloak of skin.  I’m the sniper’s

impossible hyperbola, the hunter’s parable
of tempered skill. Know me by my fidelity
to accuracy and woodlands, my barred tail,
an infidel’s fast-day taste for flesh. Indelible

as the mind’s shadow, I move as you move
am clothed as you’re clothed: pine’s needle-
point etching the borders of  our separate selves.
Predator, prey. Trying to be anything less feeble

than what you are makes you instinct’s cuckold.
Strike and be struck. Hold, hold and behold.


ABOUT THE CONTRIBUTOR

won the 2010 University of Wales Dylan Thomas Prize and the 2008 Pablo Neruda Award from Nimrod International Literary Journal. She has published poetry and nonfiction in The New York Times, Best New Poets, and The Massachusetts Review. She received her M.F.A. from the University of Oregon and has worked in the woods, on farms, and in the schools in New Hampshire, Texas, and the Pacific Northwest.

READ NEXT

poetry

July 2012

Poem for the Sightless Man (After Kate Clanchy)

Abigail Nelson

poetry

July 2012

This is just to say,   that the inked glasses that you wear look like the sound of shop...

Art

Issue No. 7

Pyramid Schemes: Reading the Shard

Lawrence Lek

Art

Issue No. 7

These sketches were created to illustrate an essay by Lawrence Lek in The White Review No. 7, ‘Pyramid Schemes:...

poetry

June 2013

Major Organs

Melissa Lee-Houghton

poetry

June 2013

When they take my brain out of its casing it will be fluorescent and the mortuary assistant will have...

 

Get our newsletter

 

* indicates required