Humped on the crag
high above the passing 
clouds, it broods
a while longer, then 
spreads its wings,
beating once, twice, thrice 
to breast the airstream 
circling the fixed plain —

Movement breaks
its stony gaze
 — swift, the plummet,
the plunge with folded wings; 
sudden, the racing shadow 
blotting out the sun,
braking in a raking swoop
 — and up, up,
lifeblood pumping,
to the crag.

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