Monday, June 4, 2012

"Shadows Passed Over the Mesa," by Gary Young

Photo by Mark Miller

Shadows passed over the mesa, and I saw six eagles sail across the
valley. They rode thermals until they were almost out of sight,
then dove, and swung back in circles over my head. The air seemed
insufficient to their size—one eagle is enough to fill the sky. Two
of the birds veered toward another, and when they met, shook their
open beaks and tumbled for a moment before swinging back into
an easy glide. They made graceful, abrupt turns, and when they did,
the sun hit their backs like a mirror and reflected a fierce copper
flash. The sky behind them was so severe that spots of white light
began to dance in my field of vision. I don't think I could have
watched them any longer if they'd stayed, but they drifted off, with
no other purpose, it seemed, than to fly.

"Shadows passed over the mesa..." by Gary Young, from Even So: New & Selected Poems. © White Pine Press, 2012.


  1. Presented so clear. An observation of nature. I found myself rereading. Then it kind of clicked."with no other purpose,it seemed,than to fly". So simply elegant and free.

  2. Jim,
    Thanks for sharing the poem/experience. Goldens are one of my favorite birds. I see them in NY as well as in the West. Enjoyed Gary's poem and was pleased to see he is published by White Pine (which did a chap of mine way back in the 1980s).