Falcon
As I fly,
miles high,
out across,
the deep blue sky,
I look for prey,
on the forest floor,
as I elegantly soar,
I can spot a hare,
a mile down,
and dive at 100,
to the ground,
I am the acrobat,
of the air,
and the king of the sky,
without a care.
Copyright © Robielynn Collins | Year Posted 2014
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment