Leptoptilos Part Three: Marabou Stork

He feeds, The Undertaker,

neck-deep in the soft debris

of some other hunger. 

 

Sensing us, we come near,

extracts himself from the carcass

and leers, carrion-mottled.  Keratin bill

 

clatters.  Naked neck expands

under discolored collar, swart

shoulders.  Offal falls.  We shudder.

 

He stands.  Undertaker tall and

grand, scavenger on

white stilts, bothered not at all

 

by our expression.  Knowing stork, he

extends his neck as if to speak, but

reconsidering, holds his speech, his words

 

behind his beak, retracts his neck

into his coat.  He spreads his great black

wings, and with one strong beat,

 

quits our ignorance.  Oh, Undertaker,

we must know: is there peace above

and love among the dead below?