Saturday, January 25, 2014
What the Eagle
The eagle soars with its limbs-I have not been outside today.
The hearts of dreams that I play, are withered in shades of gray.
Everyone says I should be a serpent, quick and loud-
But all I am is a toad.
Where are all the people, I ask.
I found my nerves at last.
I shoulder fortune like a lamb,
For lunch I want a ham.
I’m not an eagle, but I take flight.
In the dark of the bitter, and cold, night.
The snow is falling and the eagle is at rest-
Snow falls upon his nest.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment