Random Thoughts While Driving

 Ode to the Buzzards

Oh Buzzards, Oh Buzzards

Way up so high.

You circle and circle

Against a blue sky.

You ride on the thermals

Before summer storms

Letting them push you

To air that is warm.

Soaring and cruising

Looking for dead stuff.

It does not seem

That your job is too tuff.

Some surely think

That it sucks to be you

Since you are part of

Nature’s clean-up crew.

Doubt that you care

As birds of a feather.

Because it is true,

You are always together.

You’re seen on high places

Covered in morning dew

Wings outstretched looks creepy

But, the sun is drying you.

You’re seen on the roadsides

Having some lunch.

Raccoon pâté,

Or o’possum for brunch.

You’re rather unsightly,

Upon close up view.

There’s a reason for that

And most never knew.

If your bald head had feathers

You would be such a mess

And no one wants gunk

Being brought to the nest.

So, Buzzards, oh Buzzards

It’s good to have you.

Ever so grateful,

You do what you do.