Vultures always seem to spot
the weakest of their prey,
the old and infirm,
the diseased, injured, and lame –
those who are not long more
for this world.
The vultures circle overhead
or land close by … waiting,
waiting, anticipating a death,
hoping for the opportunity
to feast on the remains.
The most despicable such
vultures are those relatives,
say a long-absent cousin,
who appears and suddenly becomes
attentive to the needs
of a wealthier elderly relative
now that they’ve grown sick
and mentally unsound
from decline and failing health,
hoping to extract money or property
as their unholy reward.
Like all vultures, the human kind
are ugly, unwanted interlopers
attending the end of a life
just to feed on the remains
without shame or conscience.
An interesting personification. You hit a note of personal concern of mine. Those that prey on the weak and less fortunate with their lies and deception. Hanging around to gather the last these poor people have left. And, I would include the vulture capitalists who acquire firms from elderly owners and then break them up and sell the assets for a quick profit and a tremendous loss of jobs and well-being for former employees.
On the other hand, the vulture gets a bad rap. For there is no better garbage collector and disease preventer than the vulture, except, for the beetles that follow to finish the job. Consider the practice of the Zoroastrians. They lovingly leave their dead in high places where the vultures can pick the bones clean. No need for expensive funeral homes, gravesite, or cemeteries taking up good land. A very sane way of completing the circle of life.
Ahhh . . . When I read the title of this poem, I knew you wasn't going to be writing about real vultures', but the human kind. I was half right, you spoke of both. Good poem, an honest portrayal.
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Todd, detective lieutenant, has retired from St. Louis, Missouri and has moved to Ford Valley, Arizona. When Todd’s ex-wife is killed in a car accident, Todd fights for custody of his teenage
This was no mere illusion. Colin Chase Rand, pulled through a magical portal, landed in 1935 where the dust bowl and the Great Depression was destroying lives, and a serial killer was in their midst
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On the other hand, the vulture gets a bad rap. For there is no better garbage collector and disease preventer than the vulture, except, for the beetles that follow to finish the job. Consider the practice of the Zoroastrians. They lovingly leave their dead in high places where the vultures can pick the bones clean. No need for expensive funeral homes, gravesite, or cemeteries taking up good land. A very sane way of completing the circle of life.
Ron
Michael D.