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Singed Eagle

I woke up to
a Singed Eagle
perched on a limb 
outside my window,

could smell burned feathers
through the glass as if
the bird was still smoldering.
It did not call out or move

once in all the time
I was watching it, but disappeared
silently once I turned attention
to the daily routine;

the smell lingered, clung
to anything it had touched,
so that we could not move
without being reminded of fire.

This post first appeared on Dark Matter | You've Been Warned., please read the originial post: here

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Singed Eagle


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