Bald

The bald eagle circles stationary prey

Banking to his right

To swoop among the teepee pines

And feast upon his pickings

Powerful wings hold lightning bolts

Thrown down to scare the easy meats

To scatter others from the carrion

Or talon up some brazen rodent

The bald eagle falling

From the center of the high noon sun

Is indistinguishable from any other pair of wings

With dinner on the mind