your feathered carcass lay
Elvis white with yellow quiff
in the gutter where your flightpath
intersected with the road
bitumen black beak and claws
for days your cohort of lairs
hung about the wires strung above
scooped into a bag
and dumped into the bin
on collection night
no viking funeral for you
I held your surprising heft
feathers softer than skin
your natural life span
longer than my own