Tabasco

Tabasco

Wales — 4 September 2026

They put a piece of meat
in my glove

and told me
to hold out my hand.

Then a red kite
named Tabasco
came out of the sky—

wings wide,

feet reaching
for my hand.

His feet closed
around the glove.

His weight
settled into my arm.

Feathers moved
in the wind.

I could see him.

The pale eye.

The hooked beak.

The small feathers
around his face.

He ate the meat.

Then looked at me.

Not tame.

Not mine.

Just looking.

Perhaps wondering
if there was more.

But for a moment

we regarded
one another.

I felt seen.

Assessed.

And absurdly happy
to have him there.

For a little while

a creature made for air
stood quietly on my hand.

Then he opened his wings

and moved on.

Tabasco

Wales, United Kingdom - 2026

Poetry and photograph by Wren Stevens
© 2026 Wren Stevens

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