The little old lady.
Her frizzy hair whips in the wind.
Walking.
Stepping into the old front door of a shop.
Her shop.
The shop.
A shop where a little, frizzy haired lady waits.
A shop with a display case.
A shop that feels like home.
The display case holds three elegant dresses.
The dresses wait too.
A girl wonders past.
Her straight blond hair flat against her back.
She looks up a slight bit.
Not enough to see me though.
Instead she sees a plaid blue and white dress.
The dresses waiting was up.
As the young girl frolicked about, I flew down.
Her sparkling green eyes just looked.
I like when people 'just look'.
When hatred is still undiscovered, and everything is well.
The girl just watched.
She like to watch.
So I watched back.
But I didn't 'just look'.
I couldn't 'just look'.
I wondered.
I wondered because that's what eagles do.
I wondered because that is what I do.
I wondered because I am an eagle.
The girl was wondering now.
I could tell.
Her mind drifted off.
No longer did she 'just look'.
She stared.
I liked her stare.
I like her stare.
I liked her stare because it is my stare.
I like her stare because she is me.
I like her stare because I am her.
I show her my tricks.
She watches in amusement.
She starts to 'just look' again.
The young, blond haired girl walks off.
But not forever.
Not yet.