Tuesday, 21 July 2009

Poem 4. Bald Eagle

You might as well be moving to America
where the Bald Eagles soar over broken toys
and abandoned car parts
looking for prey
or carrion
looking for life
to take

And will I see you as often as they appear
will you live on only
on pieces of paper
until the idea of you is all that remains
a memory
a dream
a thought