Treetop Visitor

Photo copyright Aji, 2014; all rights reserved.

She sat on a bent branch atop a tree across the road
A late dawn sky opaque, leaden

Not even light enough from a wan morning sun
To show the colors of her feathered robe
A robe of rusty red, black lines and white patches scattered across it

It's a return, a stand of sorts
In defiance of the ravens
Who believe they own the stand of aspens
Across the road, by the stream

They tried to run her off two days ago
A mob, as though outside her window
Chattering, screeching, taunting, threatening
Until, tiring of their rudeness, she departed on the currents

But the red-tails, they come and go mostly as they will
Large, quick, powerful in flight
She and her mate know they are welcome here, and safe

And like their ancient ancestors who played ball with the thunder beings,
This sky, these winds, these fragile treetops are home.





All content, including photos and text, are copyright Aji, 2015; all rights reserved. Nothing herein may used or reproduced in any form without the express written permission of the owner.