jaime sorgente's posterous
thought-crumbs & casual tirades
Eagle
Soaring.
I fly
Hornet like agility; stability
Combat
Fighter Pilot.
I turn and burn
Every higher
Mission oriented; yet no mission control
Enemies
I Blow You Away.
Gawking menacingly
My glaring appearance thrusts you aside.
The pitch of the climb steep.
Risks steeper.
For if I were to crumble
—Stumble to the ground
I would go hungry
Shattered frames
Clenched beaks
Precarious perches
Never enough; always too much
And it show, it shows.
For I am simply one bald eagle.
