In the summer
when it's hot
a Cooper's Hawk
spends the afternoon
standing in the birdbath.
He is not afraid of me.
I walk out with my camera,
capture his gray-white feathers,
the silver curve of his beak.
The sparrows perch
in the hedge, thirsty
and utterly silent, until
the shadow of the house
pulls back and he rises.
None of us breathe
as he clears the hedge
and spirals up over the canyon,
and then,
we do.
