Ghost Eagle Still Flies Ghost Skies
beauty solemnly slips from grief dark shadows
her eyes were soulful as dark as her hair shines
dance with life smile at his funeral an angel divine
his spirit flew in bright white blue mountain thermals
morning burn golden light upon life sacred mountain
eagle flies no more these spectral blue white skies
hunters came creeping shot free eagle as he soars flies
feelings ghost haunting hunt skies where eagle flies no more
poem by Terence George Craddock

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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