Poem: Last

 

Last

illimitable blue,

the eagle takes wing,

somewhere off a cliff,

the ghost of its mother crying.

 

below, a busy man with a hammer

looks up with eyes that fondle the bird.

but it glides on,

out over a pale bay

where draggers shrimp the seabed

with nets of underwater claws. 

 

the eagle veers onward,

off toward a succulent sun.

soon its wings darken to glints,

blending with the warmth

of forever.

 

 

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