in a time before war: What Shall We Ask

the sky was white today
a hawk
flew low to the ground. it had yellow
eyes- and it saw much, and no one
will know what it saw-

because even if this hawk
would come from the updrafted
air to speak, no one would
ask the right question. there

is no question. not any longer. the hawk's
yellow eyes are nothing like the sun. someplace
in this world a man is crying, and many
more are laughing, maybe when the

sun goes down,
and the air is fit
to breathe again