Eagle.

Beneath bloodwarm streets,

The furrowing brow of a moored people,

Writhing seas of foreign cloth

Shiver under colored sheets.

The plaza steeple

Looms above a frothing mass.

The eagle laughs,

Poaching coins,

Striving toward its best.

It peers upon the loam

Under calloused feet,

Encroaching on the signs

Of fruitless plunder.

The eagle's wonder

Steers its wings

Toward shiny things

At the eagle's own behest.

Not knowing silver's value,

It pads its nest

With specie vagrants nonetheless.