vulcher's song

On the food chain they spiral
high above the rest

bald headed turkey-face
above a bold brown breast
a carcass in tight talons clamp

Is it lazy by nature
to feast upon death?
Dark suited attire at
the meeting for flesh

an ancient ritual gathering
for a life in passing
the soul soars on their wings
higher and higher marking
by encircling around and around

on the ground
picking clean from the bone
a vulcher's flesh feasting song
then the sun can bleach them white
and only then
can they be used again