Back to Issue 10

David Oestreich 
​

​David Oestreich lives in Northwest Ohio with his wife and three children.  His poems have appeared in such publications as Minnetonka Review, Eclectica, Hobble Creek Review, and Tar River Poetry. 

Upon Finding a Dead Turkey

Brother, you are fallen, wrecked, but
worth your weight in sparrows
to the flies
                    that thrill your final flight
toward wickerwork of quill and bone. 
                                                       
Shrouded now by Queen Anne’s Lace,
the shade of vultures
                                    wreathes your head
(beaded red and blue in death as life).                                                                        

Your chestnut fan and soot brown maille
hang limp, askew,
                                and trailing remnants
of a wing suggest coyote’s tracks. 

Who was ever grateful for you that is not
grateful now? 
                         And who will
note your loss but has not found you yet?
Or who will say one prayer for us?