FALCO, BUTEO,
AQUILA
For Tony Frazer
They belong to sky/
Sky belongs to them.
Live caged on moor/
Spirits uncaged.
They come to fingers
heavily gloved
for a beak-full of food:
slaves work for food.
Yet far from slavery
in high white air
eye alone tells
there is no cloud
can tame that eye --
lords of all feathered
small or large:
they own a gaze,
the imperial gaze,
no other conquest
bests them.
Fly from my hand
to your hand – back:
such the correspondence
long time always.
Blessings for all your gifts
on this your birthday
yet above all perhaps
for that day with skyslaves
on criminals’ moor.
For Tony Frazer
They belong to sky/
Sky belongs to them.
Live caged on moor/
Spirits uncaged.
They come to fingers
heavily gloved
for a beak-full of food:
slaves work for food.
Yet far from slavery
in high white air
eye alone tells
there is no cloud
can tame that eye --
lords of all feathered
small or large:
they own a gaze,
the imperial gaze,
no other conquest
bests them.
Fly from my hand
to your hand – back:
such the correspondence
long time always.
Blessings for all your gifts
on this your birthday
yet above all perhaps
for that day with skyslaves
on criminals’ moor.