On a warm spring-like
winter day in January
twenty-sixteen, I saw
eagles. There were four
circling tightly above
the bell-tower of Knox
United Church. They
glided above what were
four gothic corner spikes.
One had been struck down
by lightning in twenty-
ten.
Corner to corner they
curved their flight
barely stirring their
feathers, but they were
cupped to catch the warm air
rising from the sun-
heated tower below.
Then one by one they
flapped their wings to
glide away toward the
southwest.
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