Dead Pigeon On Main Rd

Little pigeon

Your lifeless body

And neck turned

To an acute angle

A still open eye

Facing away glazed and blind

To the bitter black street

From where I once watched



Your feeble attempts at flight-

It wasn’t your fault

Your wings were crippled-clipped

As mine so often are.



You don’t deserve the gutter

Where sprightly spittle-like rain

Pelts and cleaves your feathers.

In sudden cool stillness,

Your vessel is immediate emptiness

And



I passed on by

Without meaning to see

Though I still did

Pay you my respects then

And here now

For what it’s all worth.



NJP 20/9/2003

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Ailsa's picture

I've wanted to write poetry all my life but haven't gotten past Limericks!! I love the way he writes. Being a lover of ALL birds, this poem, although eloquent, as are his others, almost reduced me to tears.