Maya Jewell Zeller

 little spell for kestrel hovering / for x-ray & mothering

if you watch in slow motion / the flecked kestrel / on Youtube / you’ll watch your own lungs fanning out against the sun / sweet girl made of March light through a seed pod / how delta the vein & heart / highways of breath, of atmospheric capacity / fluctuating twenty times a minute / like fleck on fleck on feather / remember smiling? / remember your joy wrinkles? / you could fix your eyes on this bird / as if it holds a wavelength in the electromagnetic spectrum / while it stays in one place / above the rocky cliffs / while it hunts / barely wind-ruffled, on the heather / while it lands, feasting with that beautiful beak / literally eating the small snake alive / below this spectacle so many colorful tents / on the beaches / people picnicking on dead meat / & building castles / & dressing & undressing their wingless offspring / those lumpy but language-gifted gods 



Maya Jewell Zeller teaches poetics & creative writing at Central Washington University, edits poetry for Scablands Books and fiction for Crab Creek Review, and mothers two children. She is the author of Rust Fish and Yesterday, the Bees, and the forthcoming collaboration Spells for Addressing Animals with visual artist Carrie DeBacker. Maya lives in the Inland Northwest, where birds are abundant. For more, follow Maya on Twitter @MayaJZeller or visit her website: