
“Vulture in Flight” by Wingsdomain
riding thermals
circling summer-hot stones
all the pretty vultures
From my books Bullets from Bones and Riverthink
“Vulture in Flight” by Wingsdomain
riding thermals
circling summer-hot stones
all the pretty vultures
From my books Bullets from Bones and Riverthink
“Vultures Peak” by Gordon Fraser
what treasons of the heart
turn great nations to ruin
they are always the lies
from the handsomest mouths
made to taste like the truth
whose proof comes too late
when the sovereign flesh
half-picked from sweet bones
feeds a hag volt of vultures
mangy with quills dripping
sanguine stark words filling
bloodlines of civic obituary
From my book Pieces of Wine
Painting by Jon Shaw
go to the top of the hill
look for me
near the new-felled chestnut
the one that used to perch
that noisome flock of turkey vultures
you remember
they kept every house
anxious
with their ominous
comings and goings
drawing their ugly shadows
across yards and aspirations
for a better life
their brooding stares unnerve me
even when I know they can’t see me
damn them to hell
meet me there
so we can chop down the next tree
together
the pine so insulted by their guano
if more return after that
I plan to shoot them
with or without you
knowing how you feel about guns
but I’ll never get over the loss
of that fine chestnut
it was the only one around
for miles
but I had no choice
and it hurts
From my book Range of Motion
Devil’s Den Battlesite – Gettysburg PA
riding thermals
circling summer-hot stones
all the pretty vultures
what treasons of the heart
turn great nations to ruin
they are always the lies
from the handsomest mouths
made to taste like the truth
whose proof comes too late
when the sovereign flesh
half-picked from sweet bones
feeds a hag volt of vultures
mangy with quills dripping
sanguine stark words filling
bloodlines of civic obituary
go to the top of the hill
look for me
near the new-felled chestnut
the one that used to perch
that noisome flock of turkey vultures
you remember
they kept every house
anxious
with their ominous
comings and goings
drawing their ugly shadows
across yards and aspirations
for a better life
their brooding stares unnerve me
even when I know they can’t see me
damn them to hell
meet me there
so we can chop down the next tree
together
the pine so insulted by their guano
if more return after that
I plan to shoot them
with or without you
knowing how you feel about guns
but I’ll never get over the loss
of that fine chestnut
it was the only one around
for miles
but I had no choice
and it hurts
Writer Lynne Sargent
Poetry Puttering by Pax & Company
Sometimes everything has to be enscribed across the heavens so you can find the one line already written inside you. Sometimes it takes a great sky to find that small, bright, and indescribable wedge of freedom in your own heart. David Whyte
"drink from the well of your self and begin again" ~charles bukowski
no dust here
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Looking ahead, without looking back (too often)
flights of fancy from New Zealand
You're never alone, if you've something to share
All you touch and all you see / is all your life will ever be
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I am where the valleys are deep, the mountains are high, and the wind moans through trees...