Eagle and Kestrel

Eagle and Kestrel

I am a pink feathers on opal blue fragments

I am wings that gamble on your life.

I am the ancestor of fabled dragons.

I am the passion of expert heralds and their wives.

You are brown feathers in your own home-land

You are a beacon of glory above sea.

You make stars and stripes out of the sand

And a gnarled fort from which you can see.

I met you once when the sun was high

You were fighting disparities, beak perked.

As clouds gave out fluorescent dyes

In a line of satirical fantasy, knees jerk.

You looked at me eyes wide and spoke;

“They’re looking for you, they want your blood.”

But I just laughed and made a noise like a joke,

“Speak a word and your name is mud.”

Together both Kestrel and Eagle open-fire

At the disparities we face; arms crossed we fight.

People flock to our home to find the fabled squires

With a tiny moat around, below stars in the night.

We are a little tea cup floating around

The atmosphere; without a single sound.