Garage Eagle Lore

  • 131
    Shares


I am a garage eagle
My mountains are made
Of concrete and brick.
Metal, smoking animals
Crawl through my
Cave.
Bellowing and loud
Sometimes they
Hit us.
I feed here and here
is where my mate
And family dwells.
My aerie is a
Compartment
A recess in the wall.
Here i nest and
I rest.
I do not complain.
I can hide from the
Winds and the
Snows and the rain.
A

Karen Lyons Kalmenson

Karen Lyons Kalmenson

hello! I have managed to incorporate my eternal woodstock nation spirit with the high tech 21st century world. I am an artist/writer/photographer, who dabbles in rhyme, and, sometimes, reason. My passions are my husband, who is truly the wind that ruffles my sails, animals rights, yoga ... waking up in the morning. I find inspiration in too many things to list, and far too many more to remember. Sketching, watercolor painting, poetry and photography are my ways of expressing joy and gratitude. From living with a chronic illness, I have learned the beauty of each day, and treat each as another sun salutation, and another chance.

Karen Lyons Kalmenson

Karen Lyons Kalmenson

hello! I have managed to incorporate my eternal woodstock nation spirit with the high tech 21st century world. I am an artist/writer/photographer, who dabbles in rhyme, and, sometimes, reason. My passions are my husband, who is truly the wind that ruffles my sails, animals rights, yoga ... waking up in the morning. I find inspiration in too many things to list, and far too many more to remember. Sketching, watercolor painting, poetry and photography are my ways of expressing joy and gratitude. From living with a chronic illness, I have learned the beauty of each day, and treat each as another sun salutation, and another chance.

Share this post with your friends

  • 131
    Shares


Facebook Comments

2
Leave a Reply

Please Login to comment
avatar