By Lavonne Westbrooks
Lying in grass, drinking blackberry wine
I watch two hawks arguing territory with crow.
Ee-ow, ee-ow, I call. They respond,
settle differences; quiet descends.
Never been to Spain or Africa or any Asian country,
only London when I was five. I remember Father
Christmas left presents on my cot; snow there
looks like Christmas cards but those are memories.
Crow and hawk are mine, I know this place.
I walk these woods, toe first, then heel like the deer.