The starling has gone
and so has the summer.
It was fast this year
and I wanted it to last.
I went away - new places and people
didn't want to return,
but I knew when I did it would all be okay.
And it was.
I sit here listening and then
I peer outside and see
high up on the telegraph pole
a sun drenched eagle surrounded by sparrows.
They make a noise and he doesn't care.
He waits patiently and silently.
The noise goes on
and then suddenly he stretches his enormous wings and
floats from his perch on an invisible cloud
that carries him over the moor.
Yes, its okay to be back.
With all that around you it has got to be more than super ok to be back. Great poem.
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