First Thoughts On Seeing Birds Over Copacabana Poem by Diana Rosser

What are these nameless birds
that rise bent wing
on slow thermal winds.

Strolling bare foot in the early morning
they appear one by one over the sea
gathering with vultures
to carpet the city skies
rising like a lazy inversed tornado
high over the backdrop mountains
and the sugar loaf.

Weightless on the hotel bed
I watch them hardly flap a wing
relaxed in the rising heat.

In the evening
as the sky begins to blush
they return over the water.

I have watched them all day
and still don't know their name