Wings (a poem)


The evening sun dies slowly


Men and women wend their way from work to home

Earbuds in, ignoring

All around them, locked in their own worlds

The roar of traffic blocked away

Locked away

Until one pair of eyes looks up

And up

High above the humdrum, black wings

Catch the air, swift flying

White head catching the light

Enough for pause

Brain argues with eyes

The bird remains real

An eagle in the city

The woman stops, enjoys


Then gone, and she looks down

To realize

She remains surrounded

Suits trapped in music

Not one of them looked up

Not one saw


This incident really happened at a crowded bus stop above a Metro station in the Maryland suburbs of D.C.

I have always said people don't look up. Often they don't pay any attention at all to anything not directly relevant to them.

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Comments 4 comments

cavallo 5 years ago

Very true.

ahorseback profile image

ahorseback 5 years ago

I love this and I constantly see something like this where most people seem oblivious! Makes you wonder doesn't it !.....:-} Awesome

Senoritaa profile image

Senoritaa 5 years ago

Very true, beautifully written.

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Charles Hilton 4 years ago

Beautiful poem!

There is a Bald Eagle habitat behind a shopping mall in my neck of the Maryland woods---suburban Baltimore. And because of the community where I live---woods and marsh and waterfront---there are eagles and ospreys and other hawks and even vultures, and over the years I've learned to keep one eye forward and the other eye to the sky.

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