Eagle Poem by Rich Harney
Eagle
The crag is where
I scratch
the high rock.
My talons click.
I'm wicked
to an absent hare
who really doesn't
want me there.
I've no remorseful feathers,
but only a breeze
to tail the scurrying fellow
and eat him
as I please.
R. Harney
Wednesday, November 13, 2019
Topic(s) of this poem: nature
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