The Awakening and Solstice
Poem
Somewhere between sleep and waking
a white hawk flies.
Through threshing wings of light
which blind and shake,
man knows he never dies.
Somewhere between sleep and waking
loves lies,
lies with a bruised beak raking
man as he rises into light,
the awesome quaking.
About the Author
Martha Haskins Hume
Mrs. Hume is a doctoral candidate in English at the University of Colorado.