That swoop of wings.
Haunting,
like a guillotine
cutting
the day in two.
Left askew.
as if to ask you
to put it all back
together again.
Those
circling
wings,
ready to devour
any weakened flesh.
In the weekend fresh air
it has its avian eyes on me.
The umbrella trees
won't protect,
from the fear
that rains
from the skies.
I see a sea of silhouette shadows,
those swooping wings.
sweeping, swishing
past me.
Talons glint in the midday sun.
Trying to slash me,
but then a kind smile
sets my heart alight.
Gives CPR with loving eyes.
Sparks a bit of life
back into this corpse
and the vulture
fades from sight.
Thanks for reading
Every click, every book purchase,
every like helps me to keep doing what I love.
Peace, Love & Poetry
Kyle
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