Night Hawks

Soon after night creeps over the desert,
the Big Dipper shines through strategically placed holes
in the huge black canvas that replaced the blue Sonoran sky

We sit by the pool,
where,
the palms, lit from below,
draw thousands of insects,
flying high above us,
who lure dozens of night hawks
gliding in overlapping spirals

The white bands on their underwings
shine like reflective tape
and we watch,
agape,
as they flit and circle, soundless,
through the desert air,
just slightly cooler
than the temperature of our skin

Again and again the night hawks
spiral
circle
choreographed orbits
tethered to celestial bodies
that are invisible to the naked eye