Vultures Circling

They soon circle around a death; rapidly after the last breath. While the body is yet still warm, they come, with haste, the greedy swarm. Siblings, children, lost cousins, friends all picking through the odds and ends. Some wailing of a promise made or claiming for a debt unpaid. Who gets the house, the watch of gold? "Much more," they say, "So we've been told." "Secret accounts; a home abroad The jewels left by old aunt Maude, a diamond ring, a fancy car, also, that etching by Renoir". And then, the words that make all swoon: At some time in the afternoon executors enunciate "There's naught left in this estate all given to a home for dogs a while before he popped his clogs". Pick-A-Title, Vol 31 Poetry Contest Sponsored by: Edward Ibeh Date wrote: 24th July 2022