Overhead, one bird of prey.
Most likely redtail but surely a hawk
surmised from shape and behavior,
but in truth its identity for me is uncertain
from this angle.

Not a vulture,
of course; those are obvious
from below by the fingered wings,
the circles tightening and lowering.
But otherwise,
no true clue.

I should know this.
Once upon a time, I did
or thought I did. I spent more time
outdoors, from predawn
to deep into the night;
I looked up more often. I was confident
every time I pronounced my
identification of the shapes above.

I was, I’m sure, as wrong
as often as I was right
back then. Am I smarter now
that I just shake my head and say,

“I have no sense of truth
when faced with this, other than
the truth that I am simply thrilled
to see it out my front window
and am relieved to know
that is no vulture out there circling me,
at least not one I can see.”