Three big buzzards top the barn
..a break from acrobatics.
Once swept aloft, their wings a sail,
black feathers stretch out tautly. A sign of Spring, the buzzards are.
Tho’ not as sweet as robins,
their turkey heads and taloned feet…
as much of spring as tulips. Once high above, it’s hard to tell
these scavengers aren’t eagles
Majestic, graceful, mighty birds.
Another of God’s marvels.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem