Not Against Flesh & Blood - Sonnet 14

Gargoyles crumble; vultures take their stead,
All lined along the watchtowers at hand.
In single file, they wait for command.
A sentry circles slowly overhead
And then reports to one who stares alone
At some imagined threat to spotted meal.
A second watchman takes its shift with zeal,
Its head not cocked but strong and straight as bone,
And casts off from brick, following a scent
In wide and lazy circles through the sky.
With wings spread out, one ushers forth a cry;
The brethren plunge in such a fierce descent
Upon a lonely bluebird, sitting there
And plucking fresh berries without a care.