The falcon floated above the treetops
On my birthday,

Hovered in equilibrium
Before it plunged

As if air
Were endless.

Again it rose,
And soared, and dived,

Braking its swift spiral
Inches before impact.

It took no prey,
But flew away,

And I went home,
Hauling my shopping in the cart.

The gloom of the day
Split through the middle

By perilous flight
Became something rare.