A Dying Song

In the dreamtime

wolf

brings

Vulture wing.



His eyes

stare

into mine

reminding

me

of

cycles of life;



Birth,

Death,

Rebirth,

the great round,



Vulture.

Through you

death

and

decay

becomes

a friend.



You break off wings

cut off feet,

chop off heads,

dismembering

rearranging

transforming

me

into

a

hollow bone,



where

your breathe brings

music

to

a dying song
June 14, 2016