Nov 27, 2022
Flying Over
Flying over gracious forests were a pair of vultures hunting.
One had seen a rabbit. Bones were gnawed and flesh by then decaying.
By himself, the vulture dove upon the carcus. Eating
All alone. His friend had come and asked, "May I partake with you in festing?"
"No! Buzz off! It's mine!" The rudeful miser vulture said while shouting.
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Hurt by this, the friend then flew away betrayed and hurt and starving.
Not too far away, a family of deer was softly breathing.
Breaths that mixed with putrid fumes of rotting flesh from creatures dying.
Diving down, he ate his share. But then the miser came while saying,
"Can I have a bite or two?" The friend said, "No. I'm not sharing."