Feathers ruffled

I wrote this on 21 September 2001 at the Falconry centre on the Isle of Mull I was watching a display but my mind was elsewhere. It was a sad time.


Feathers Ruffled

Bald eagle with a damaged wing
Hawks guided in as planned
We hear a carrion vulture sing
Where dead flesh is at hand

Bald eagle has small feathers harmed
Hawks dead upon the ground
The vulture’s kind now cower alarmed
The eagle makes no sound

The vulture hides deep in a hole
From justice that is planned
Yet in his dark deceitful soul
He thinks he is God’s hand

Some time from out the sun’s stark rays
We’ll hear the vulture’s dead
And where the well fed eaglet plays
The ground is coloured red


21 September 2001