The gliding death angel
Only a dot is caught
in the early morning air
of the eagle
in its morning flight
where almost invisible small
it hangs storeys high
in radial winds
in a little dot against the blue
before with stretched out claws
lightning fast
as a shadow
it falls from heaven
with death
striking in precision.
[Reference: Arend speel doodsengel by Jan Lourens.]
poem by Gert Strydom
Added by Poetry Lover
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