I spied a bald eagle using the wind <br />To hunt for his prey. <br />He wandered afar as to leave my eyesight <br />Then soared with the wind <br />Back within my yearning eyes. <br />I wondered about what he saw <br />Not a cloud in the sky. <br />When I felt wet droplets pelting my face <br />He was crying I'm sure for <br />The total disgrace. <br />The struggle his downy chicks had to endure <br />While we fought each war. <br />While we wasted his land.While we let our greed <br />Get out of hand. <br />He circled away and the droplets subsided <br />Then he returned and I was soaked <br />On this clear sunny day. <br />With the grief that he felt <br />I am sure. <br />He let me know that he could not endure <br />The ravage we reek. <br />In the land of the free <br />And the home of the brave.<br /><br />John Shea<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/feathered-tears/
