Vultures

A country road

With tall overgrown weeds

Winds along the Harpeth.

The old slave fence

In tumble down ruin

Reveals an opening.

A golden field

Of grasses and thistles

Bathes in yellow sunshine.

The lone black cow

With ebony dark eyes

Looks forlornly confused.

A stillborn calf

In effected repose

Lies dead on the hard ground.

The birthing cord

Of artery, of vein

Hangs limp, bloody, and chewed.

A mother’s cry

With low and mournful plea

Goes unanswered, unheard.

The hungry group

Of rank turkey vultures

Pecks the little corpse clean.

Copyright DJ Anderson 2013

Author's Note: In memory of the tens of thousands of innocents killed during the Iraq war, on this 10-year commemorative date.