Visit from the Red-Tailed Hawk
By Don Iannone

From the window
we watched
not more than five yards away
the red-tailed hawk
perched regally
in the still silent pin cherry.
Whitish belly prominent
and proudly fluffed
as a large down pillow.
Chocolate-brown plumage
painted
across his head,
nape and back.
Razor-sharp beak poised
and powerful talons grasping
the most hidden branch
out of view
of unsuspecting songbirds
considering Sunday dinner
at the window feeder
by the dangling wind chimes.
Eyes like lasers
focused in all directions
missing nothing,
including the playful squirrel
lost in himself,
and if not careful
perhaps dinner
for our new raptor friend.
No songbirds appear
and so he lifts off
with broad wings pumping
the Airbus-like bird
high into the marbled gray March sky.

Snow-Bound Tuesday
By Don Iannone

The winter cares nothing
about whether it is Tuesday,
let alone whether you're cold
and trapped under her heavy wet blankets.
She doesn't mourn your loss of time
due to impassable snow-clogged roads.
Frankly, she does only what she knows how to do,
which is to be winter,
complete with bitter blowing winds, mind-numbing cold,
and deep piles of silencing snow.
Don't blame winter for being true to her nature.
Heed her powerful message: be true to your nature.