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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
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.