July 2015

Vulture

          by Mary Pinard

 

You can wear a body down to bone.  Bold

beak, featherless head, even your feet are bald: 

you are made for deep passages, final journeys. 

 

Cathartidae:  Purifier.  No stranger to the lonely

roadside, no stranger to the field of battle—all

our endless wars—you do extra duty for the dead.  

 

And yet you make the distant sky alive:  your high 

teetering glides and brush-like wing tips draw our eyes

open to new light, to heights far above this earthbound life.    

 

 

Mary Pinard teaches in the Arts & Humanities Division at Babson College and lives in Roslindale, MA.  Her  collection of poems, Portal, was published by Salmon Press in 2014.