Preparing my morning coffee,
out the kitchen window
I see how a needed rain
has bathed our thirsty earth.
Up on the hill, an unexpected sight—
seven carrion-seeking birds
perched in an intimate cluster:
on a roof ridge,
nearby power poles,
tall treetops.
One by one they spread
lofty wings, endeavoring
to dry their appendages
from last night’s soaking.
Although at the moment,
there is no sun,
no wind,
no rain,
only a clarion unfolding
to the new day’s meager light,
and their trusting it will be enough.
