My Poetry: The Eagle; Heaven’s Hero

The Eagle; Heaven’s Hero

I fear the beating eagle’s wings heard high
Here hurling dark, devouring eyes against
Me, me, the bitter, bone-dry prey. With turns
This whirlwind shrills, breaks day, and glides the brink

With heaven’s heirs conspiring, firefolk hung
There finding tongue to stroke my hiding. Eye’d,
I, frantic, flee the wanting wing, that haunt
Of primal, plum plumes plummeting on a swing

Of air. Heart rears, unravels blood, now veined
These lame limbs lurch, fares fear unfeigned with feet
Afoot from preyer. Down the day I went;
The sun-spent, blackwest way I went before

I turn and tremble at the flare-bent glare.
I turn and tremble–Clutch! Of flesh he took;
Of me he shook, shucked, struck with his clawed prods,
His iron rods down deep in me, and I

Confess the truth and terror of his face:
Love loathes the lukewarm wash, would rather wreck
His ruin, wrestle wretch from wretchedness
And hurl his heart to heaven’s hero’s heart.

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