Bird of Prey
The glare
from the black
bird’s feathers
blinded me with a single stare.
I looked away, looked back,
watched him perch
in an old oak
outside my window.
I began to recreate
his story in my mind,
just what it was that led him here to this tree.
But then he turned and looked at me.
Our eyes met for but a single moment
just before
he flew away
still clutching
my imagination
in his claws.
(c) 2009 James Eric Watkins
from the black
bird’s feathers
blinded me with a single stare.
I looked away, looked back,
watched him perch
in an old oak
outside my window.
I began to recreate
his story in my mind,
just what it was that led him here to this tree.
But then he turned and looked at me.
Our eyes met for but a single moment
just before
he flew away
still clutching
my imagination
in his claws.
(c) 2009 James Eric Watkins
posted by Sir James Eric Watkins at 11:24 PM
5 Comments:
That rocked!
Thank you for saying so.
Beautiful. :]
Great piece! I am looking for other poetry sites to befriend...my road has finally stayed on the straight and narrow of my calling...word spirits, and the time is good as well as right...
E Stelling
www.tmi-chef.blogspot.com/
*Sir James takes a bow.
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