Tuesday, May 22, 2007

Vulture

Tuesday, May 22, 2007
6 comments

Black outline joining blue to white
like stitches tossed skyward
by persnickety thermals.
Teeters, then rocks, rising
the only sound a whisper
of air across sable primaries
carving poetic invisible paths
all the while seeking out
the reek of death
in valley, meadow,
roadside ditch.

6 comments:

On May 22, 2007 at 8:57 PM Edit2 said...

Touché,BT3. Evocative . . .

On May 23, 2007 at 9:44 AM possumlady said...

"seeking out
the reek of death
in valley, meadow,
roadside ditch."

According to Julie's account of groceries left in the car, you forgot to mention "garage"! ;-)

On May 23, 2007 at 12:24 PM Bill of the Birds said...

Dear Possumlady:

You are correct. "The Vultures Knew!"

On May 23, 2007 at 1:06 PM Julie Zickefoose said...

It's good to have a totem bird who will also clean up after you.

I like this pome, B.

On May 25, 2009 at 6:09 PM flywithwings said...

I love your poem and turkey vulture!

On May 25, 2009 at 6:10 PM flywithwings said...

I very much enjoyed your turkey vulture and poem!


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