There is a harrier reflected on the surface of the creek—
I see him there in a kind of unfurling disbelief,
An odd angle on a thing already beyond me, still
Of eye and certain of purpose, shaping the sky
With white shoulders. . .Then, only the sky remains,
The constant sky I see in the-water-without-
The-hawk. The unlikely meeting of all these things
In my eye: the light, the water, the sky, the bird—-
All unlikely stillness (the creek), movement (the bird)
And physics (the eye); the importance of the invisible,
Too: The ten thousand things I have to dismiss to see
The harrier in the water, to see some blindnesses are a
blessing.
