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Wild Birds
I am the hawk, the falcon, the eagle
circling the skies, swooping with the winds
that roar through gold and carmine canyons.
I soar to hunt, to pursue, to feed.
Gliding on ageless currents of thermal energies
exploding through the clouds,
stooping to the field, the sea, the desert.
I have the strength, the will, the fortitude
of the ages beside, and within, my being
sharpening my insight, my vision,
calling me to the feeding grounds.
I am the caveman, the forager, the hunter
of all within my penetrating sight.
Succumb to my mighty beak and talons.
Copyright ©
Linda Alice Fowler
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