The Vulture

You catch yourself
first thing in the morning
saying this is not a good day
Prescience is a virtue A vulture circles
over the river knowing already
you’re late to your appointment
have canceled preemptively in your heart
the possibilities that could have wavered
in the pink glass along the far bank
the bridge in its green dress dipping
A world in which
children choke on gas & men posture
over them The vulture settles
on a bare tree above the wing dam
surviving her kingdom
the only way she knows how
preening her hideous head
You catch yourself
first thing in the morning