The eagle soars eight feet above my head
I sit on the granite couch like buhda
I turn into a stone sculpture
The water on Sunday Lake slaps the shore
I could hear the muffled flap of wings
A companion of the first eagle flies the same route oblivious to my presence
They perch on a dead tree that stands higher than the living green
The stone mans back is breaking
The kids are beating a fish to death with a rock, crushing its skull
You caught your fish kids but what a waste of flesh, just for your entertainment
The northern pike is a beautiful fish, with alligator teeth, and filament bones throughout the flesh.
Poetry from the book {Bunny Hop} by Artist Troy Richard Thomas
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