Cool Spring Morning
Buzzards: big, chicken-bodied-like
ugly birds gather on the ground
around a dear carcass of brown
and white crumpled skin folding in
on a raw meat meal, picked at
by bloody, yellow beaks
over and again
on a cool Spring morning . . . .
driving to work
And I think
to myself how strange
it is that a bird soaring so high
could be so beautiful in the sky, yet so ugly on the ground.
ugly birds gather on the ground
around a dear carcass of brown
and white crumpled skin folding in
on a raw meat meal, picked at
by bloody, yellow beaks
over and again
on a cool Spring morning . . . .
driving to work
And I think
to myself how strange
it is that a bird soaring so high
could be so beautiful in the sky, yet so ugly on the ground.
Labels: poetry, ugly birds
posted by Sir James Eric Watkins at 9:55 AM
2 Comments:
Maybe it's the behavior on the ground, though it serves a purpose, sort of a fowl cleaning system, is what makes them appear to be ugly? Heh, na it's probably a mixture of those mugs and the behavior, but anything that sores, flies, dips and dives, seems to inspire us to fly too, in our own way.
Anybody else hungry for a hamburger?
xx
Hamburgers for everyone!
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