Thursday, December 27, 2007
My muse is refusing to work. It must have gone into the holiday mode! I am not at all happy with this piece. I can't even think of a proper title for it. Suggestions and critiques are welcome.
when sun comes down closing its wings,
eagle returns home to that tallest tree-
almost reaching towards yellow moon.
changing facets of night keep it rooted.
at first dawn of light, it will go its way-
spreading its wings, circling all over,
eyes on target, descending unhurriedly-
with precision on its unsuspecting prey.