Red Kites in Winter

One... two... three... seven red kites -

All in 4 acres of Ilkley sky!

Their high-pitched mewlings

- Falling 4ths and variations thereon -

Add to their vocal presence here.

Together, the kites assert their ownership

Of the clear, sharp, upper air.

They possess the sky around here...

That's until the peevish crows

Gang together to battle them.

These kites – have they chased away

Our kestrels... our sparrowhawks?

Only the buzzards roam here now.

And, like the Kites, their sad-baby call

Etches its memory on the landscape.