Sharp shin hawk
flails
above the soybean field,
as if in a
panic,
looks like it could,
in mid air,
drown, spiral
to ground.
It flutters in
erratic hover.

Is this how a hawk
learns to fly?
A hatchling
fumbling its first try?

But wait,
I stand corrected.

Suddenly it rights itself,
catches the wave on which
it must have waited,
wind surfer.

I’ve never seen
this sky, where
a bird can freeze.
Extend it’s wings
and remain
motion-
less,
surreal, stuck
against the blue.

An aerodynamic
witch, a glitch
of physics.

Strikes its pose.
For thirty glorious
seconds holds.

If only I 
could do 
it, too.