Kestrel
kestrel hovering
the moment before her stoop
as our first remembered falcon
the field behind the cottage
empty farm buildings and twilight falling
like a gathering of ghosts
shadow dropping from the fencepost
that could be a buzzard
the instant, unexpected movement
as something we’d missed
breaking cover
the swelling dark
and the scurrying of small things
before the owl
our vast, exposed spaces
sudden recognition
passing in shades through air
the luminosity of wings