Smiling at the stench of carrion
Great vultures tear great dead life
Sustain heavy beaked frames
Reaping life from non-life
putrid flesh thrown aside.
Purify what is rotten excess
Digest what no longer interacts with the world
Clear the ground for winter's turn.
The near-dead grasp at everything, feel nothing, wall themselves away.
Preparing for flight - the dead weight must be left behind.
I can smile at the stench of carrion
for I know it will be devoured by
ravenous buzzards who prey on my dead weight
and leave me free to fly.
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