Old Man Eagle

• Kate Beveridge, Grade 7
• Poetry
• 2007

The gnarled old red gums,
Growing on the banks of the spirited creek.
Twisting, turning, flowing, churning,
Through the dense and oven hot scrub.
Up in a dead tree, an eagle observes,
Watching over his only home.
A whisper, a whisper from Old Man Eagle.
Of this land, all the secrets he knows.
A whisper, a whisper from Old Man Eagle.
Telling you, in no more than a whisper,
Of the secrets of Koala Creek.
Listen to the wisdom of Old Man Eagle,
Because to each person he only speaks once.
A whisper, a whisper from Old Man Eagle.
Perched in his tree by Koala Creek.