* * *
dirge for the bald eagle
knee deep in galoshes and untamed chocolate mouth, i puddle among the rapids.
________our guide points to the east – a lawless wood and the stirring sun. a golf ball head emerges,
________blushing, and recoils. another another another; each a temple until there are so many
________we no longer look. here we are glacial: a mistaken symbol of liberation, an accidental
you sit on a chair, smoking through your binoculars as I wade back to the stones. your map face
________tells me all i need to hear: you, a suspended raptor, endangered within yourself; me, a
________wildflower, wilting without you. our time left is an ever shrinking wingspan, but for now
________we dance among the creeks, splashing around in our new jeans.
* * *
Kate Wilson is the Managing Editor of TERSE. Journal, an Interview Correspondent with Half Mystic, and an Assistant Editor with Alien Magazine. Their work can be found at Homology Lit, Poets.org, and Parentheses Journal, among others. They cannot do a somersault, but they can be found online here: https://msha.ke/katewilson/#about
featured photo by John Wilson