Wings At Dawn
Vulture, Eagle or a Phoenix
The sound of fluttering wings,
Woke me up at dawn today.
The Sun had not yet risen in the sky.
I was sleepy and could barely open an eye.
I bolted out of bed nervous that I would find,
A phantom pterodactyl of a carnivorous kind.
I saw black wings spread across the window frame,
Red eyes like coals looked at me, as if it knew my name.
I peered closer through the window to see,
As close I could get for fear of its proximity.
The shiny sharp beak tapped thrice on the window pane.
I heard the claws scrape and scrape, as it began to rain.
That ghoulish form fluttered away into the dark.
Was it a vulture, an eagle or a phoenix in the night?
Perhaps it was a feathered messenger of evil delight.
That winged visitor disappeared at morning light.
