By Bob Meszaros
Your left hand and arm extended,
the falconer drapes raw meat across
the knuckles of your buckskin glove.
Wishing, finally, to be one
with all things wild, you smile
at me and wait.
The falconer turns his head
and whistles. From a limb behind
your smile, a shadow drops.
I hold the iphone camera steady,
hold your head and shoulders boxed
and centered inside the plastic frame.
Facing me, you cannot see
the raptor and its wide-winged
shadow, hollow-boned and hungry,
gliding across the bright green leaves
and grass, through the summer sunlight
of your eighty-second year, until hawk
and silhouette are one upon your
Bob Meszaros taught English at Hamden High School in Hamden, Connecticut for thirty-two years. He retired from high school teaching in June of 1999. During the 70s and 80s, his poems appeared in a number of literary journals, including En Passant and Voices International. In the year 2000, he began teaching part-time at Quinnipiac University, and he began once again to submit his work for publication. His poems have subsequently appeared in The Connecticut Review, Main Street Rag, Red Wheelbarrow, Tar River Poetry, Concho River Review, and many other literary journals.