To a Bald Eagle
1.
Through salt’s spray, on Acadia’s Isle, you I see
A proud vision perched on the far tree
So remote, your features I can barely discern
Until your ivory head does slowly turn
Stacking lenses so your visage I may reach
From afar, ironbound shore has no beach
My heart sings at your distant majesty
From our boat, perfection you are to me
2.
By the garbage near the john on the Homer Spit
Your life a matter of raw sinew and grit
On the lamppost you perch, dirty claws
Fighting for scraps to ravens’ dirty caws
Part Oscar the Grouch, part national symbol
There is no high perch in this life humble
Now just a pretty bird, who’d have guessed it
Proximity would make you less majestic?
© by Author
7/17/16
For contest: To A…
Sponsor: David Lindsay
Copyright © Tom Quigley | Year Posted 2016
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