Four Swans and a Buzzard

by Terri Glass

Nicasio Valley road,
right before it intersects Petaluma Highway,
I saw four whistling swans
in the reservoir,
their necks arched like cathedral doorways
calmly sitting on the water,
like a cup of chamomile tea
served in the finest white china.
Further down the road,
a lone black buzzard
so close to the highway,
it made my heart stop-
its naked head ready
to plunge
into a carcass of deer.

Beauty and the Beast, I thought
right here for my viewing pleasure.
In a world of black and white,
I drive by in my champagne Geo prism,
my neck arched like a cathedral doorway,
my talons clasping the wheel.