Shades

The shadows crisscross on the road,
mark clearly hunting hawks' design
on pavement just before I pass.

The hunting patience toys with air,
floats on the drafts, ascends the breeze
while lingering aloft to search.

This shadow cross exacts the place
of hunting over my redressing
across the ribbon road to home.

How latent is the lurking pose
intent on some quite careless twitch
that risks too daringly time's lease.

Bill Flewelling