Ragtag Daily Prompt

16.02.2026

Buzzard

A buzzard circles
long before it lands.

Patient.
Unemotional.
Waiting.

People use the word as insult—
as if survival were something shameful.
As if feeding on what’s left
is weakness.

But the buzzard does not create death.
It cleans what has already fallen.
It finishes what the world
cannot carry.

There is something honest
about that.

No pretending.
No performance.
Just instinct and necessity.

I’ve seen buzzards in the sky—
wide wings,
steady spirals,
never rushing.

I’ve seen buzzards in the sky—
wide wings,
steady spirals,
never rushing.

They are not villains.
They are part of the cycle.

And maybe that’s what unsettles us—
the reminder that nothing lasts forever.
That endings feed beginnings.

The buzzard doesn’t fear what is over.

It knows something else
will rise.

— Maggie
The Afterlove Voice 💫