Bones

We cry adieu, the red-haired vulture
crys not a tear, for all is spent
its heart is rent, all hidden treasure
Nevermore to gleam in warmth of light

thin talons holding 
one last reminder
what once was fine, and pure and tender
a dusty shelf, now lost in time
best we forget, lest we remember
remember friendships
and days of joy.
The days together 
in health and sickness
remember sickness...
and broken joys.
tarnished memories
Soaking in brine

the red haired vulture
bids us adieu
eyes gazing downward
hair thrown askew,
gazing at sunsets
and faded rhymes
and sips the wine
years overdue.

the scattered leaves
so pretty
so damp
so dead.
The vulture sighs 
it rests its head,
its vacant eyes
and icy breath
tremble, tremble
greeting the dead.

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