George Mackay Brown
The Laird's Falcon
The falcon on the weathered shield
Broke from his heraldic hover
To drift like a still question over
The fecund quarterings of the field.
Doves in that dappled countryside,
Monotones of round gray notes,
Took his bone circle in their throats,
Shed a mild silence, bled, and died.
All autumn, powered with vagrant blood
(But shackled to a silken call)
He paced above the purple hill,
His small black shadow tranced the wood.
Steadfast himself, a lord of space,
He saw the red hulk of the sun
Strand in the west, and white stars run
Their ordered cold chaotic race;
Till from lucidities of ice
He settled on a storied fist,
A stone enchantment, and was lost
In a dark hood and a sweet voice.
George Mackay Brown, The Collected Poems of George Mackay Brown, John Murray, 2006.