Five eagles fishing the Kaw
off Bowersock South.
Or maybe they weren’t doing
much more than I was.
One eagle dropped
from a branch
and flew towards me,
climbing to clear the bridge
with some space.
Reaching altitude,
it dipped one wing
as it arced off over the city
pointing toward the lowering sun.
It may have winked its eagle eye
at me as it passed over,
but it was probably my imagination.
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