Kestrel



A kestrel orbits the Meadowlands
Beside the Turnpike.
A reminder: In the order of everything,
It is most likely the case that
No thing separates from any other thing,
Despite great evidence contrary.

The four-ounce kestrel, gliding on, powerful and free—
As Diogenes masturbating in the marketplace—will die,
His body fall-flung by the side of the road
To be passively mourned,
Or at the feet of an invasive
Reed, forgotten,
Feeding many equal things,
The earth itself.

Seven Cow Hides


Seven cow hides
Hardened by bronze
Roughed by Chiron
Bulwark of Achaeans
Conquered by pity.