Tuesday, March 6, 2012

The Golden Eagle

A golden wrinkle on a sea of blue
I saw and eagle and it saw me too
   as it crossed the mirror of a lake
where for and instant we each saw the others' fate.

In his eyes I was accursed and bound
to cast my eye on things beyond my reach.
And climb each tree and mountaintop I could
to grasp at the air and sky on which he stood.

But I --
I now saw him captured in an endless sky
bereft of features, a desert of the open air
a nomad climbing misty sand dunes there
over hilly thunderheads and blazing sun
no songs to sing to anyone.

And so I'll take up gravity with a cup of mirth
     and friendship
that are interred inside
the circle of the earth I ride.

2 comments:

Phillip Moses said...

I like it. Just a typo, and maybe some work on the structure, but I like the ideas it represents.

Naomi said...

I haven't learned what is correct form or structure for poetry so I can't comment on that, but I love this. It paints the picture of glorious soaring through the skies in my mind :) Thanks for sharing!

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