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Cogent Hands

01 Apr
one rock is all I hold, one moment, home
the eagle swoops to loot and grabs its food
the seeker wakes, attentive to her flight
its eyes ignore ahead and what's behind

the eagle sees to hunt throughout one day
tomorrow never comes --there is one day
as birds float by, the past to distant lands
like her, I clasp this crag with cogent hands








© Brian Hodgkinson Jr. (aka) Limericist 2007/2021
 
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Posted by on April 1, 2021 in Poetry

 

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