While out on the boat we see an eagle
sliding over still water, hunting fish.
She flies with grace and skill: daring, regal.

The Wisconsin morning lolls, almost full-
y open, water lilies yellowish.
While out on the boat we see an eagle

glide.  Feathered lightning, she drops down to pull
up her late breakfast, a favorite dish.
She flies with grace and skill, daring, regal,

to the upper part of a pine, watchful—
a breeze stirs branches, some lazy reeds swish.
While out on the boat we see an eagle—

they had almost disappeared.  We’re grateful
enough survived, their journey not finished.
She flies with grace and skill: daring, regal.

Love, you look so relaxed, it’s wonderful.
We had hoped to see raptors, got our wish.
While out on the boat we see an eagle—
she flies with grace and skill: daring, regal.

—
Kenneth Pobo has a book forthcoming from Blue Light Press called Bend Of Quiet. His recent work has been in: Weber: The Contemporary West, Floating Bridge, The Queer South (anthology), and elsewhere.