Eagle Wing Days

by

Dalton Roberts

Days can become rubber stamps
relentlessly pounding out
the same impressions
on our lives.

The same alarm clock
jarring us
to the same outlook
on the same things.

The same bar of soap
shampoo
socks
and suit of clothes.

The same car
on the lockstep route
to the cluttered office
and the same unsolved problems.

The same people
chewing up minds and time
with the same
things.

The same route home
among squirming cars
teeth clenched
radios jangling

The same unhappy
happy hour
chattering mounting
as loneliness drinks.

Yet I have known
memorable days
on eagle wings?
riding magical moments.

I ran
and caught the wind
in the sails
of my soul.

Somewhere high
in the bluest part of the sky
I dropped my rubber stamp
and flew away.