Sonnet III. Peregrine falcon soars

Call me to your company, distant sun!
Tear me from all this earthly pettiness.
The dormant blazes of my feathers dawn
As skyward mirrors to your effulgence.
Concentric tower of spiraling winds—
Climb me towards undisturbed solitude
Where people shrink to stains remote and dim
Under rolling seas of infinitude.

Beyond cirrus cities this peregrine
Pilgrimages to virgin altitudes,
Until the relentless hand of hunger
Like Phoebus’ gold bow my figure strings,
And lets fly at heavenly magnitude
Black lightning sounding poetry’s thunder.