Enjoyed this poem.

It could be in reference to many things and not necessarily the wounded bird (though this image stands wonderful ly on it’s own),

It could represent so many ‘crash and burns’ that reach out and smack our conscience.

In these difficult times of division one might even read your poem in that light…

Lessons learned.

But perhaps for me it drags me painfully back to a memory. Of a young man/boy all of 16 years old. A trigger happy cowhand on a huge cattle ranch in Guatemala. The hawk, in this case, fell wounded and got up , stood and faced me, no fear. The purest example of raw guts. The utter beauty found in nature’s wonder my god.

Lessons learned that to this day sixty years ago still sting my eyes…

Thankyou