T. Vulture

I admit to being appalled by

   your red, burnt rubber face

the first time I met you;

but

Your peaceful aura, your

magnificent Victory of wingspan,

conquered my heart.

You are no carnivore like the eagle

or hawk, no

you don’t take pleasure in attacking

and killing.

You tidy other’s crimes;

bring peace to the roads and

land.

You are no lone wolf: you love

your clan of three or four

gently painting artistic celtic

knots across the sky.

Inside the beastly mask, lies

a gentle Titan of birds,

aiding, quietly bringing

concord.