Two Vultures
Circling in a dance on thermals and updrafts,
Not hunting
But soaring for the joy of soaring.
They are impossible figures
To my eyes.
Too big for common fowl
And dark as coal dust.
Unlike the common gulls
With wings white as crescent sails,
Their supremacy exceed only by
Swans, snow-white valkeries
Come to earth.
These great black apparitions,
Are they engaged in some ritual
Known only to them?
I can only wonder
On how improbable is the sight
Of two vultures circling.