Mary Rotman Poet Free verse

Sitka

She waits, a grounded eagle, eating takeout, passing time,
And stares, a crippled hunter, chasing salmon of the mind.
She courts a passing breeze; hopeless passion
   stirs her wings,
But she must sit, a grounded eagle, dreaming dreams
   of bygone things.

Note: Sitka was a bald eagle I once had the privilege to know.
She broke one of her wings flying into a power line and was
grounded for the rest of her life.

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James Horn July 19, 2015 at 2:03 PM Sitka is in Alaska. Is that where you are from. I just went up one position in total poems in Poetry Soup. Jim Horn Mary Rotman July 19, 2015 at 10:24 PM I am actually from Wash DC and currently living in ID. Sitka was a bald eagle here at a conservancy group. She was named after the city. I could stare at her for hours. Thanks for your kind words here and elsewhere.

James Horn July 18, 2015 at 9:01 PM How sad. And all of this thanks to humanity who is supposed to be kind. You are new here, aren't you? Jim Horn Mary Rotman July 19, 2015 at 11:14 AM yes