Delivered the very next day, as had been promised, the poem arrived carefully scrawled by a steady hand in black ink on heavy paper. The large envelope that held it contained three things: a bit of cardstock to keep the envelope very flat, the poem, and a little note:

First, the note.

To Carley, the Kestrel:

This sonnet has been only gently revised, but for its own great improvement. I always punctuate better on the second pass. I hope that it brings you joy, and offer it in the spirit of our continued friendship.

Everett Ogden


Second, the poem.



The kestrel with her sharpened talon spikes,
O huntress fair, fearsome little thing.
She screeches battle! Takes to artful wing;
The violence of her life brings her to strike!

A speckled mouse, her quarry in the field,
He hath not a prayer against her preying.
Mousey flesh is soon to be for flaying,
The warrior bird does not know how to yield.

But lo, in sweet distraction lies his chance,
The graceful creature must consent to dance!

Though glorious in small display of might,
Upon the wind, the lady wants to play!
Yon mousey lives to scurry one more day,
For she is taken happily with flight.

e i o -


(the poem itself is cross-posted in one of everett's books of original poetry, Sonnets From the Land Beyond the Pale)