Raptor
He's out at height—
the red kite,
talons unchangeable.
But at that altitude,the red kite,
talons unchangeable.
poets could rename him;
a bat-thorn black tattoo
on cloud-bonded skin,
feathers long gone,
wyvern.
About songs acknowledging the feeling
A song is a skipping stone on a bone-still lake, roads deep dropping into the stomach of the found. One hundred times a water kiss — the head tilt familiar naming something for the city sunset hungry. Then the submerge — playing fish-scales down as lonely bubbles and calling bells meet in new and old voices. LJ Ireton, March 2026.
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