Texans don't have vultures—Texans have buzzards.
And buzzards breed a different kind of panic.
They circle around prey and peck and poke like your mother-in-law over Christmas dinner.
Taunting, teasing before completing the kill, they swoop so slowly then swiftly, seesawing your freedom, hypnotizing before capture.
Like an overfriendly neighbor, everyone knows a buzzard, and everyone prays for redemption.
Julie McCormick is a student exploring her creative side for the first time. Buzzards is her first published poem, and she is currently working on a collection that includes both fiction and poetry.