Vultures dancing on air
Brown form lies in death
Food for life.
Who know what led to the demise
As the battle becomes more fierce,
Black wings like fists shake angrily
As some move in
Others give way.
Searching for spots to tear,
No open flesh to give easy entry
A hard fought meal will ensue
Circle of life on a tired trail.
I would have loved to view him alive,
To see the beast with kin
Moving through the forest deep,
Yet in perpetual sleep he lay
Waiting to fade into the remains of today
Picked clean in time feeding many,
Forgotten around the next curve
We walk away somber yet aware
Of the impermanence of this life,
Short moments cherished.
Today’s prompt was to write about heirloom plants and their unique names yet having a brown thumb, chose instead to let my mind wander to heirloom pigs, and then back a bit farther to earlier today when we happened across a fresh carcass of a wild boar. Not large, perhaps the size of a fifty to seventy pound dog….thirty or so black vultures picked at it and fought for a piece….life in its extreme elements of life and death. I have photos but chose not to include them…..instead a googled image of a wild boar…..but they are good eating brined and slow smoked. ….my bad……