A sad story but true.
I saw 2 eagles on a time while walking on the beach
I saw 2 eagles warring, stooping, striving each with each
I saw 4 claws enmeshing, clashing, knotting, round and round
I watched as flying failed them and they fell towards the ground
I saw 4 great wings spining spiral luffing as a sail
Beating strong and struggle straining all to no avail
I saw 2 fine great bodies painful painted on the sands
And saddly stared through teardrops stained my sorry useless hands.
Did you really see this?
It’s touching whether literal or metaphorical.
Do you think it was a failed mating attempt? They do mate in freefall, and sometimes don’t finish in time, and exactly this happens.
That was my take. I think I’ll speculate on the metaphorical implications (if any) in due time… after I have had a chance to really digest the poem.
I tried to rescue an injured red-tail hawk that was being attacked by another. They actually get cannibalistic, I was told at the nature center where I brought him. Injuries and trauma were too great tho and he died. Supposedly (according to Yahoo) you can view two photos of the experience below.
Saw a program once on bald eagles. It appears to be a sort of dominance or bravery test; they’ll fly at each other, enmesh their talons and wheel wildly around as they fall earthward untill one breaks and starts flying again; seems a lot like playing “chicken”.
Then again, why an eagle would want to play at being a chicken is beyond me.
Yes I saw this. As nono decribed - only these were Australian Eastern Sea eagles. I’ve seen it a couple of times - usually they do just as nano said and break-free just before the ground - this pair must have been particularly pride-bound.
As to the metaphorical - who am I to judge the affairs of eagles? I can only try to capture my earth-bound feelings.
" and her dark hair could weave a snare.."
Paddy Kavanagh.
Slan,
D. (hic)
That was quite beautiful. It almost makes me want to cry just reading it.
Also a very beautiful poem (you really should post the whole thing Dub..it’s worth it you know).
Why on earth are you “hic-ing” anyway? 
"On Raglan Road on an autumn day I met her first and knew
That her dark hair would weave a snare that I might one day rue;
I saw the danger, yet I walked along the enchanted way,
And I said, let grief be a fallen leaf at the dawning of the day.
On Grafton Street in November we tripped lightly along the ledge
Of the deep ravine where can be seen the worth of passion’s pledge,
The Queen of Hearts still making tarts and I not making hay -
O I loved too much and by such and such is happiness thrown away.
I gave her gifts of the mind I gave her the secret sign that’s known
To the artists who have known the true gods of sound and stone
And word and tint. I did not stint for I gave her poems to say.
With her own name there and her own dark hair like clouds over fields of May
On a quiet street where old ghosts meet I see her walking now
Away from me so hurriedly my reason must allow
That I had wooed not as I should a creature made of clay -
When the angel woos the clay he’d lose his wings at the dawn of day. "
Did I say could ..instead of would???
Drunk again…guess I went lookin’ for the heart of saturday night again 
Memory is a wonderfull thing…or so I hear.
Slan,
D. 
Poetry like that can’t help but make anyone happy
Gee, can you post a warning next time? That sort of thing makes some of us a little ill.
It would be nice to be able to choose whether we need to read it or not.
Raglan Road is one of my all time favorite songs, thanks Dubh.