The Osprey
by Tony Owen
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 Lord of the lake
 carved from the sky,
cleaved by the
wind and light.
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Feathers etched
in the darkest pools,
eyes of the sun
that carry the night.
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Talons deep in steeple cloud
to scale the sheer sky,
to swoop and dive
upon the silver fish,
hook talons and burning eye.
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A struggle in the fire
of blood and water,
the gleam of fin and wing
the fight to fly and thrive.
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To rise into the
silent sombre sky,
in cloud water reflections
the soar and glide,
of wingtip inscriptions
that scribe the air and light.
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To stately perch
surveyor of land and water
through the sun´s fiery eye,
etched by the tree tops
upon the steel blue sky,
in ash and ember
numerals of time.