Wings
tremble
Cold front
falls gray from
northern skies
Dry fields ripple—
summer grass
now dead and brown
hides nothing
not even shadows
from the vulture
spiraling lower
waiting
waiting
for something
to freeze
2 Comments | Filed under: birds and poems and poetry | Tagged: birds nobody loves, poems, vultures
Wow…that made me shudder with cold seated in the warmth of an indoor place.
I rather like this a lot.
Thanks, Mark.