As Far as Hawks Go

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December 1, 2015 by The Citron Review

by Alec Hershman



I woke with a pale hawk face,
a stranger to instinct,
and so a bit scrawny, as far as hawks go.

All the views from my terrestrial life
had simplified upon a glimpse in flight. The houses
stood apart and round,

like mounds of sand
released from a tide. Bubble-chimneys showed
the living bunkers; quick things

etched their cursive on the shore.
And though I lost some detail
to elevated vision, my new life was still

extravagant and terse, like a billboard facing the sea.


Alec Hershman lives in Michigan. He has received awards from the Kimmel-Harding-Nelson Center for the Arts, The Jentel Foundation, and The Institute for Sustainable Living, Art, and Natural Design. More of his poems appear in recent issues of Cimarron Review, Western Humanities Review, Mantis, Cleaver Magazine, and The Adroit Journal. You can learn more at alechershmanpoetry.com 

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