November 3rd and the Eagle | Teen Ink

November 3rd and the Eagle

October 23, 2019
By 1gray SILVER, Nashotah, Wisconsin
1gray SILVER, Nashotah, Wisconsin
7 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Espresso brown and blizzard white colored feathers rain down. Each feather that solemnly graces the ground with its touch is a reminder of gratitude. As it flaps its wings and takes off once again, it looks down at me. Its eyes pierce below a final time before scraping the sky with poise. Briefly, inside its claws, was what could only be described as the 15th Amendment. Humbly worn with age, it was rolled up tightly inside the bird's tenacious hold. 

It skims over cities on November 3rd. Its golden eyes swiping through and seeing people linger together to mark their ballot. It skims past busybodies, whos shabby hats slip from the combination of a small breeze and speed walking. It skims over stations and saw representatives dab sweat from their foreheads as they preach their values over live television. It skims past cities and sees political signs hammered into lawns and hanging from trees. 

It soars over towns on November 3rd. Its view fell upon the population who eagerly debates with their neighbor over a rickety fence. Townspeople plaster a smile while listening to varied viewpoints. It soars over businesses, whose leadership depends on the fluency of produce. It soars over graduating high schoolers who throw their black caps above with diplomas in hand. 

It sails over skies on November 3rd. It recognizes red, white, and blue plastic textured, stickers out at voting scenes. It sails over a mother and youthful daughter holding hands while the father pushes the wheelchair behind her. It sails over college students struggling with paying for coffee in a local town. It sails over a father illustrating the necessity of having his son's voice heard in this chaotic world. 

The bird drops the written amendment from its claws, and it swiftly lands onto puffy grass. The paper billowed before it thumps with momentum. The bird rests on the edge of a river. It swoops a fish from the wicked river and brings it back for its young. The chirps of eaglets call for their mother, on November 3rd, the future of these eaglets is formed.


The author's comments:

What my vote means to me, and what one's vote can do for others.


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