I watch the eagle
|
I watch the eagle
slam into the lake Stunned, and then scrambling across the slippery ice She struggles and climbs bleeding into the air She steadies, circles, perches, and an hour later slams down hard again Testing in front of me I make my way out To a see a catfish frozen into the ice I spend a long time there still, with the fish Back on shore I go to the shed and take the small pick On the ice again I chop at the surface It cracks a little but I mar the hard ice I don’t stop until the dead catfish cannot be seen Freeing the eagle from it’s confusion Between what is alive and what is gone I return to the house and sit by the window Watching the lake for a few more hours My wife asks am I OK? I say yes, and then I say no She understands because last night my father died |
About the Author
The Los Angeles writer Bob Gossom is known for his distinctive poetry and love of music, movies, books, hiking, body surfing, and tap dancing. While not widely published, his new works are avidly anticipated by a small band of fanatic and loyal followers. His stage production "Versified" premiered in January 2020 at the Golden Performing Arts Center in Los Angeles, and featured this poem.
About the Work
"My Dad died on December 24th. Driving to my mother the next morning, a story my brother told me 15 years earlier about an eagle on his lake kept coming into my mind. It took me a while to figure out why, but later that day I wrote the first draft of this poem. The line structure models the conflicting thoughts about my Dad, who died almost instantly at 89 after a wonderful life: Contemplative on the left; angry, violent language loaded on the right."
The Los Angeles writer Bob Gossom is known for his distinctive poetry and love of music, movies, books, hiking, body surfing, and tap dancing. While not widely published, his new works are avidly anticipated by a small band of fanatic and loyal followers. His stage production "Versified" premiered in January 2020 at the Golden Performing Arts Center in Los Angeles, and featured this poem.
About the Work
"My Dad died on December 24th. Driving to my mother the next morning, a story my brother told me 15 years earlier about an eagle on his lake kept coming into my mind. It took me a while to figure out why, but later that day I wrote the first draft of this poem. The line structure models the conflicting thoughts about my Dad, who died almost instantly at 89 after a wonderful life: Contemplative on the left; angry, violent language loaded on the right."