On Seeing Eagles
With my binoculars
focused,
the eagle steps off his
branch
and glides toward
me.
Discomfort elbows my
heart
like a prairie dog must
feel
a moment
before
The eagle leads with its
talons
as it grabs at the
rivers current
dripping, rippling as it
circles away
no heavier than
before.
But behind I see
another
land its fish
flapping
on a branch between
talons tight;
crows swoop
close
for leftover
tidbits
after the eagle
feasts.
Gravity
Weighted by tins of cat
food
the white plastic bag
stands upright,
forgotten on the kitchen
table
until it crinkles stress
silence
with curious
wonderings
and searching about the
house
for noise
like a cricket
scrabbling
through a narrow hole in
a door jamb
until the cat slinks into
the room
and stares at the
bag
succumbing to
gravity.