EAGLE RISING
Look there!
Upon that dead,
decapitated tree trunk, bare
in contrast with the sunlit spread
of greenness after recent rain,
hunches a huge, black bird.
She sees us, launches free,
lays wide wings on the spiral of the air
and circles with an easy care,
eyes scanning. Long feathers on wings’ ends
soft-feel the breath of sky.
At home on the highway of the winds,
she rides the unseen, rising path;
and dwindles, vanishing from view,
into her far, unfeatured,
fenceless
pastures of the blue.
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