She reads the auspices from the way the bones
Of discarded KFC spill from their boxes
Or from the splattering of pigeon droppings
Interspersed with blackened chewing gum.
On sunny days, she watches the skies.
The dance of the con trails against the blue
Augurs well or badly, depending
On the likelihood of a holiday this year.
The thunder of lorries
Conveys a message.
Don’t ask – you wouldn’t like it.
She is no haruspex, and so
She does not know, yet, the story
The entrails tell.
Notes: “Locate a dictionary, thesaurus, or encyclopedia, open it at random, and consider the two pages in front of you to be your inspirational playground for the day.”
I used the prompt loosely – a friend had retweeted a definition of ‘augury’ and I looked up augury and various associated words on Wikipedia.