Tesselation

 

 

 

 

Tesselation

 

 

Two Black Vultures

Hunch on a palm tree

Pondering what carrion lies ahead

 

Morning seas tesselate

Memories of star patterns

Like fractured dreams

 

Flap, flap sway

The branches bow as

Two birds become 12

 

Their toes clasp the fronds

In uneasy meditation

Too tipsy for this

 

Swoosh swoosh swoosh

Night wings barrel

Straight for my balcony

 

With every downward shove

White wingtips chalk

The air into twin spirals

 

Now one, then three, then six

Black Vultures sweep away on pale legs

Billowing across the cove

 

Light sponges the grime from

blue and white fishing boats

Cocooned in their moorings

 

Two Black Vultures

Tip featherless gray heads

Shrug glamorous black wings

 

Dream of the coming thermals

Buoying them above Chacala

 

 

In the soar of our longing.