Open Daily: 10am - 10pm | Alley door pickup 10am - 7pm 3038 Hennepin Ave Minneapolis, MN
612-822-4611

  • Open Daily: 10am - 10pm
    Alley-side Pickup: 10am - 7pm

    3038 Hennepin Ave Minneapolis, MN
    612-822-4611

Open Daily: 10am - 10pm | Alley-side Pickup: 10am - 7pm
3038 Hennepin Ave Minneapolis, MN
612-822-4611
The Watershed Years

The Watershed Years

Decker, Mark O.

Paperback

General Poetry

ISBN10: 1483499669
ISBN13: 9781483499666
Publisher: Lulu Pub Serv
Published: Mar 22 2019
Pages: 240
Weight: 0.79
Height: 0.55 Width: 6.00 Depth: 9.00
Language: English
An Eagle Soars When I was young, a boy, in elementary and high school, I had broad wings; I flew like a hawk; High and graceful, gliding, riding all the thermals. I had domain over my territory. Then, came college, I was lost; A round peg in a square hole. Somehow, my wings were clipped; I mostly wandered, like Siddhartha, aimlessly For sixty months; I did not fly; I mostly crawled. Then, I met the love of my life, who told me I could fly; That she had watched me fly, and it was a beautiful sight. Ok, I thought, and I told her I was a sparrow; She told me no, you are an eagle. I told her, Ok, let's say I'm a robin; No, she said, you are an eagle. Ok, I said, I am a dove; Again, she told me I flew like an eagle. I agreed, and said I was a hawk; She told me, no, you are not a hawk; you are an eagle. Ok, I told her I was an eagle; and, I told her I could fly again; She told me eagles don't fly, they soar; Now, soar.

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