The speaker describes lying in a pasture, watching buzzards circle in a hazy sky while wind sweeps the grass. His kite rides above the wind, wobbling now and then, and he notices the quiet landscape: sleeping hills, a distant white farmhouse among green trees. There’s a calm, almost trancelike mood, but the circling buzzards and the coming night add something watchful and uneasy. He waits for the thin moon to appear near his kite. Then, without warning, a flame-like flash dazzles him and he is “shaken as a banner.” The poem seems to capture a moment of stillness interrupted by a sudden, possibly fatal lightning strike. The speaker’s voice feels detached, even peaceful, as if remembering the last vivid moment before everything changed.
Dillard Sissman — Summary
The buzzards wheel slowly In wide circles, in a sky Faintly hazed as from dust from the road. And a wind sweeps through the pasture where I lie Beating the grass into long waves. My kite is above the wind, Though now and then it wobbles, Like a man shaking his shoulders; And the tail streams out momentarily, Then sinks to rest. And the buzzards wheel and wheel, Sweeping the zenith with wide circles Above my kite. And the hills sleep. And a farm house, white as snow, Peeps from green trees—far away. And I watch my kite, For the thin moon will kindle herself ere long, Then she will swing like a pendulum dial To the tail of my kite. A spurt of flame like a water-dragon Dazzles my eyes— I am shaken as a banner!