Heaven-circling vultures searching for the dead
kettling high in the gall-grayed evening sky
with a keen sense of smell.
They care not for the bell-voiced wood thrush
crooning in the arms of an ancient oak;
rather they hear the moon-blown wailing
of the grey wolf in mourning
near the remains of its pregnant mate.
©2019 Linda Lee Lyberg
Author’s Note: I took a dark turn with this prompt. Laura is our guest host and has asked us to write a poem with at least 4 of the word compounds she has chosen from Dylan Thomas’ work. They are:
BELL-VOICED CRADLE-PETALS DARK-VOWELLED DUST-TONGUED
FIRE-DWARFED GRAVE-GROPING HARE-HEELED HEAVEN-CIRCLING
LARK-HIGH MAP-BACKED MOON-BLOWN MUFFLE-TOED
OWL-LIGHT RINGED-SEA SCYTHE-EYED SHE-BIRD
TEAR-CULLED TIDE-LOOPED WATER-SPOKEN WHALE-WEED
dVerse Poets Pub: Tuesday Poetics Love the words