A Seaman's Poems

From the Edge of Reality


The Eagle

by Mark Seaman

The sun pierces the morning.

The day is crisp and cold.

A blanket lays over the land.

The lake has thawed.

The wind gusts.

It feels so good.

Floating and soaring.

Riding the wind.

I see breakfast.

Plunging down for speed.

Swooping and strafing.

Claws breaking the water.

Fresh sustenance.

It is good to be alive.