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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 11-June 05:53:20 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 171479
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => The Goshawk
[time] => 2012-03-23 20:45:24
[hometext] => its spring in the deep wash behind our building, the whitetails and woodpeckers rattle and the hawks are hunting
[bodytext] => The Goshawk I watched the goshawk circling Above the green reaching, Far below the den of barking kits The vixen running The leaves in the tangled Bramble rustle Under my feet Beside the drop into the wash It is the springtime of the hawk She knows no other seasons But the drive of sex and The revenge of hunger She cares nothing for your eyes Still circling with her wings, You will never be one with her fire You are not her love. [comments] => 1 [counter] => 93 [topic] => 27 [informant] => richard2 [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => NaturePoetry )
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