Wednesday, November 07, 2012

Vulture, a poem


I’ve read you are of the kindred of storks —
that’s what the scientists claim who counted
out your genes like beads on an abacus
and added them up to Cathartidae.

Once, we thought you cousin to the hawks
and falcons, their not-so-reputable
relative with bad table manners
and monotonous taste in tailoring.

Soar. I will still watch you circle
higher into the infinite blue
and from this distance you are more
of the angels than aught else.

Stephen Brooke ©2012

I read a while back -- was it last year? -- that genetics had shown that the vultures and condors were not, as had been commonly supposed, closely related to hawks and eagle. Rather, they come in for a landing on the stork family tree. The idea for this came for me while I was out edging the flowerbeds this morning so I came in and jotted it down.

It could have been longer. It was longer but I decided it was better trimmed back to this much and no more. Ha, maybe it would be even better if I trimmed it back to nothing...

Seriously though, recognizing what not to write is as important as writing itself.

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