SKIRTING the river road, (my forenoon walk, my rest,) 
Skyward in air a sudden muffled sound, the dalliance of the eagles, 
The rushing amorous contact high in space together, 
The clinching interlocking claws, a living, fierce, gyrating wheel, 
Four beating wings, two beaks, a swirling mass tight grappling,
In tumbling turning clustering loops, straight downward falling, 
Till o’er the river pois’d, the twain yet one, a moment’s lull, 
A motionless still balance in the air, then parting, talons loosing, 
Upward again on slow-firm pinions slanting, their separate diverse flight, 
She hers, he his, pursuing.

Poet: Walt Whitman
Poem: 51. Dalliance of the Eagles, The.
Volume: Leaves of Grass
- 20. Leaves of Grass
Year: Published/Written in 1900

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