10/29/03
Leaves whirl to a cascade
Like the gradual falling of eagles.
Contained in the silver dome
Whose compass is narrowed in storm,
Birds and autumn leaves
Twirl undeliberate in the wind
With the appearance of freedom.
Brave Professors
Wear their symboled robes like capes
Which resist the inert body
To whip and fly, snapping at the ristriction
That the will imposes on the men within the cloaks.
And yet the force that wills the robe its liberty,
The learned man knows well; it is his enemy.
Both can dominate, both battle
Over the frivolous,
Thinking they are checking fate
As they check each others' pride.
The eagle doesn't fight the wind.
He has touched his beak to the limit of the sky.
While the wind and the Professor
Fight over a kingdom and ignore its border,
The eagle contents himself
With the assurance of ignorance
And knows himself a slave.
