The Eagle

In the concrete jungle of New York City He stands alone watching for prey Commuter traffic rush past without pity To be on time for another day The cars speed past with their engines roaring The eagle stands erect and proud He does not lift to fly above, soaring Just remains amongst the traffic cloud His feathers groomed meticulously An array of colors of fall Flawless, arranged regimentally He does not flinch or move at all Emblem seal of America's government A symbol of a strong nation A reminder for those ambivalent A free spirit of creation Looking back in the mirror where he stood With the pride he is regarded Seen in his place a twisted lump of wood A piece of nature discarded