Special Delivery

There must be mail
I think to myself
I stop to look both ways
Even though our street is lightly travelled
I'm looking at our old crooked mailbox
Hoping something interesting is inside
Thus justifying the fifty yard walk

A loud and unfamiliar sound scares the crap out of me
It sounds like someone snapping a wool blanket
Over and over right next to me
I panic and look around
Ready to flee mostly

I look up at the top of the tall dead tree next to the mailbox
And just a few feet away from the topmost branch
And rising fast
Is an adult bald eagle
With most of a fish in it's left talon

I lean on the mailbox for support
I'm relieved I'm not going to die from the strange flapping sound
I watch the eagle fly away
Out along the shore of Lake Huron
Doubtless looking for a more secluded place to eat it's lunch

I open the mailbox
Nothing there but a sale flyer from a furniture store
I sigh
Nope, nothing interesting at all