Sense Sonnet - Pumper

 The Vultures

The vultures venture, flying high,

Sensing the carcass stag below.

Wings hover in the desert sky.

Instinct warns them to now not go

To feast upon the dead meat yet.

Live meat in human form is there,

And would certainly be a threat

To coming down to ground from air.

But the vultures are aware that

This human won't forever stay,

Will sometime leave this habitat.

Then the vultures will have their way.

The vultures circling patiently,

Waiting for what will be, will be.