Wednesday, January 30, 2008

The Tao of Talons Poem

The Tao of Word 8

Standing on my lap, this eagle
looks at me with childlike searching.
Talons faintly stroke my face

as if observing each expressive
curvature or cranial
horizon. Eyes the depth of sunlight

break into my own. Vision
sharper than the edge of love
itself is soaring through my bones.

~Feugill Poirier 2008

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