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Flying Free
by Chris Ingham

Quietly still, alone, I stand
In an open field, clinging still
To green, flimsy, flowing late spring
Raiments of a vigorous youth.
A peregrine falcon hovers,
Alert, wingbeats quick and shallow.
Suddenly she stoops, streaking low
Across the edge of my vision,
Wings flattened against her body.
Rising fast, a pigeon dangling
Like jesses from her tensed talons
She disappears into the haze
Leaving me awestruck, forever tamed.

I stood quite still and confident
In my own open field of dreams
And saw you attached to my leash,
Tamed, sitting upon a fence post
Waiting for me to call for you
To stoop across my fertile ground
Of vivid imagination.
I saw jesses tied to your heart,
Knowing that I would hold them tight
When you flew always to my call.
You were my bird, tamed forever.

One day you broke the jesses and leash
And flying free you stooped on me.
Now I stand, quiet, still, alone
Watching you hover in the air
Above me, forever unfettered.

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