it is february when

Caitlyn Castro

it is february when the vultures come

lurking (are they lingering?)

          nestling in the trees

to fill their gaps with dark winged flora

where winter has stripped them bare

          (the trees bloom black)

the carrion will not eat any of their own

necking and cooing lovingly (looming black)

          yet leave us whole

night is cold and fog fills the streets with hidden

corners and suddenly the familiar is new is quite

          frightening but we are left

unharmed. we find our own gaps to fill

in the unseeing dark lawlessly huddled close

          like black scavenger birds