Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE EAGLE FLIES; A SONNET SEQUENCE: 16. THE EAGLE'S MATE, by CLEMENT WOOD


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE EAGLE FLIES; A SONNET SEQUENCE: 16. THE EAGLE'S MATE, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: Not a soft breast to ease my tired head
Last Line: When was there eagle's mate, that could not fly?
Subject(s): Birds; Eagles


Not a soft breast to ease my tired head,
Not a soft brain by which my own must glitter,
Not a mere woman for a restless bed,
Who kneels before such ancient shameful clatter
As "Man is woman's lord!" "Let man play freely
With lesser women, while his mate chills pure!"
I hold that such a one is far from holy,
An anemic relic impossible to endure.
I face the world, sword out, the wall at my back:
Who stands beside me with her bared blade?
I step like dusk the shyest woodland track:
Who drifts by me through sun-glow and shade?
My winged breast cleaves clouds, and warms the sky:
When was there eagle's mate, that could not fly?





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