Raptors, above the trees,
screw themselves across valleys.
Sometimes, a zephyr will impede
or hurl them towards a far darkness.
Eagles needn’t scream to be heard,
nor struggle to make such good time.
Dave Read
Poems
Order should be imposed on my poems, but isn't likely to be until I turn to carpentry, or painting, to carry me through the day. The display here is latest first.