A bird with many faces

A bird with my faces

A persistent stalker of the sky.

You gather like hooligans on match day causing destruction.

You scheme as you scout out your prey.

Playing the waiting game.

Like a plane you take to the skies,

The vermin in the clouds.

In your washed-out grey coats, your screeches echo throughout the sky.

As you circle me you dive bomb me

one after another.

Resilient creatures.

With a swoop and a snatch my sarnie your prized possession.

I’m left wounded, a finger that bleeds like a dripping tap.

The battle returns to the skies as one bird fights for the sarnie and it falls to the floor,

Chests are puffed, and Feathers are ripped off.

One after one the birds leap on top of each other.

One squeezes through the heap and swallows the sarnie in one.

The birds circle him, stare and squawk while edging in closer.

Then a nearby bin is knocked over by the dustbin birds

A KFC bone rolls out.