The condor slides
down hollow heights
fondling with grace
the contours of the wind,
pinions out-spread
and frayed.

The condor glides
a pure idea of flight,
in sheer space,
soaring in thermals,
swaying on pinnacles
of twisted air.

Slow and serene,
he rides the Andes,
scanning the scene
with laser eyes
the swoops to seize
food that dies.