High winds that come
as static to us but their nest
doesn’t budge and he
seems confident it won’t
sitting austerely
on their (three?) chicks
the wind combing
his head feathers up
a mile in the air
a rat’s bloodied carcass
waiting for dinner beside him
guarding as much as praying
for his beloved’s sudden return
on such a great day for coasting.
1 comment:
There's is nothing better than a kiss on your bald spot for Valentine's Day.
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