We Gather Here Together

It’s hard not to notice
the vultures gathering

they’re not inconspicuous at all
against the gray sky, slate pavement

they’re opportunistic
waiting for the fall

and every time I try
to ignore them

one calls out, Hey, baby
I’ll take you home if you need a ride

I don’t dignify the comment
with attention

I’m not out here for them
as much as they’d like to believe I am

I am my own private
gathering

I’m out here for
all the women in me

*This poem first appeared in Here: a poetry journal.

Rachel Toalson is the author of The Colors of the Rain, The Woods, The First Magnificent Summer, and Something Maybe Magnificent (Simon & Schuster, 2024). Her poetry has been published in print magazines and literary journals around the world. She lives in San Antonio, Texas, with her husband and six sons.