[There’s pain as fingertips stiffen like cattails]

There’s pain as fingertips stiffen like cattails.
On frozen shores the snowbirds glean seed hulls.
A winter storm deepens: cold, cold needles
fall, mysterious clouds and squalls. The trails
All snowy, covered with traces of frail
Souls, when above a shadow crosses. Gulls?
And fortune changes guise: a hawk! One mulls
A point of envy: wild, wild strength; unveils
A secret wish to be fierce, dangerous.
A force. It thrills as edge of steel, instinct
To rise and fly, to hunt, to soar so fearless.
One wants that hook and camouflage—less fuss,
Ascend versus retreat to tunnels linked—
That awesome mask, a way to be boundless.

© 2025 Melissa Kalinowski. All rights reserved.