Tori- it has taken me 14 years to finally write this poem. Is the crossing over too obvious? —ALG
A lone eagle rises
tops a pine,
dives for a fish
in a Wisconsin Lake,
solo hunter guards his territory.
My father passed away late August,
my Father-in law’s heart stopped dead
right before pecan pie on Thanksgiving day,
my brother succumbed to cancer
one week before Christmas.
As we drive west to my brother’s funeral
three eagles glide from a bluff
ride a wind current together
pass in front of our car
as they crossover
the Mississippi River.