The way those wings soared by the van passenger window
into the sky, just to come back down and sleep in my eyes.
You pointed and said,
“Look, look!”
And what explanation could I give but to give in?
Your starry eyes laid in the skies watching to see your childhood
come alive; mine started with your joyful voice.
The eagles were floaters which gave us time
to point out the wonders of nature as we sped by.
Every drive for twenty-one years we rode this way;
searching eyes for skies, eagles flying for you.
Have they all gone now that you’re not here?
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