an almost accidental gathering of poets
 
   
 
 
Edward Allen
 (1972)
The Best Line Yet
In Stamford, at the edge of town, a giant statue stands:
An iron eagle sternly clasps the crag with crooked hands.
His pedestal is twenty feet, full thirty feet is he.
His head alone weighs many times as much as you or me.
All day, all night he keeps his watch and never stirs a feather.
His frowning brow glares straight ahead into the foulest weather.
They say this noble bird will spread his iron wings and fly
The day a virgin graduates from Stamford Senior High.
O, evil day when he shall rise above the peaceful town,
Endanger airplanes, frighten children, drop foul tonnage down!
So let not this accipiter desert his silent vigil,
But yield to me my darling, Stamford´s finest, Susan Kitchell.
   
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