Poem: Vulture 


There may still be times 

where the vulture swoops down 

to  pick the hot, torn flesh 

from my broken bones 

It may come

Univited 

Wings broad and black 

Flying over my wide open self

Circling 

Looking for that place to enter

to tear what’s left 

and swallow it whole 

Dark bird will fly away 

taking parts of me

with it

And what is left behind 

will be bleached 

and turn 

to dust

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23 thoughts on “Poem: Vulture 

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