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“Some Friends from Pascagoula” by Wallace Stevens 🇺🇸 (2 Oct 18792 Aug 1955)
Tell me more of the eagle, Cotton,
And you, black Sly,
Tell me how he descended
Out of the morning sky.
Describe with deepened voice
And noble imagery
His slowly-falling round
Down to the fishy sea.
Here was a sovereign sight,
Fit for a kinky clan.
Tell me again of the point
At which the flight began,
Say how his heavy wings,
Spread on the sun-bronzed air,
Turned tip and tip away,
Down to the sand, the glare
Of the pine trees edging the sand,
Dropping in sovereign rings
Out of his fiery lair.
Speak of the dazzling wings.