The Phoenix and Me

The turkey vulture circled above me

in the evening sky

black on a darkening blue

He soared in the shadow of the hills

as the sun set ever lower
and the Gray assumed strength

And then
the buzzard slowly

circled higher until
in his calm grace-full arc
he rose past the shade
from the trees
into the light of
the deep gold setting sun

and then

the lowly vulture exploded

into bright bronze and red

a phoenix afire

beautiful beyond words

And yet,

the bird had not changed

still, a turkey vulture

still, a carrion feeder

still the same loathesome

bird of death

The buzzard was the same

but I had changed