The eagle is back, welcome boy.
He perches tall on the waiting pole.
Atop the deserted mall.
Cloud of doves return to skies.
Random crow streaks jet stream wild.
I love this buddy,
My childhood spans his wide wings,
As he swoops down and scatters,
Doves scamper, sweat, cry mommy,
And run for their feathers.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem