top of page

Poetry Falcon

the delivery of a love letter from mother to daughter

At 200 miles an hour, the speed

of Falcon, my poem may reach you

before you even can know

I’ve written it for you.

Of course, you have no way

of knowing that as soon

as the ink dried to the touch,

I neatly rolled the paper

into a tiny scroll and

fastened it upon Falcon’s neck

and now this stalwart bird

has alighted upon your windowsill

where you sit looking for

meaning amongst the stars,

your gaze distant and strained.

Falcon surprises you.

You deftly remove the scroll,

reading silently—your

lips moving with the rhythm

of each foot, each word, each line.

When you look up, Cassiopeia proudly

appears across the night sky.

Touching Falcon’s soft feathers tenderly,

you understand now that maternal love can

take millennia to consummate.

Not all daughters feel loved

while her mother shares

the earth with her. Sometimes

it takes a fall from a great height,

death, even, to fulfill a love

greater than any ordinary words.

It takes this poem, from Mother

to Daughter, written upon

Time’s scroll, and tucked into the

soft neck of Falcon who finds you

among the 8 billion others

currently walking the earth.

32 views1 comment

Recent Posts

See All

This is the age I learned that I could not erase my mistakes in a way that created a neat, pointed eraser like Natalie could. In many ways, this is the age I first remember disappointment--the disappo

bottom of page