Buzzard
Someone left his feathers
on the lawn of my backyard
I thought that he’d be swifter
than these weak and willful arms
His plumes are strewn haphazardly
His pinions overpreened
His crest is bent and flimsy
like the tongue between his beak
Someone left his feathers
spread across my property
and, naked as a jaybird,
wheels with malice over me