poem (Patreon)

much to my delight i live in eyeshot of a flock of pigeons who i spend a lot of time thinking about and walking past to get coffees...to be amongst them is without fail a high point of my day...i just like and feel for pigeons, once-domesticated roommates relegated to vermin status...but i do just like birds...and so when i saw this moment play out i was conflicted. 

The birds

The crowd of pigeons vibrate

in the spray of seeds cast by the small man

huddled on the bench, their smooth backs

glinting in the colors of what’s left of the day –

pastels, baby pink clouds, the black trees

in yellow skirts half-dead.

Seagulls loop around the scene like reapers.

The man shoos the big thieves, harsh with it,

willing to stand to land a swipe.

I watch him really touch one, the white

moment of it jolting back, yipping a little

then spiraling off to some other frenzy.

Both are birds, dumb and hungry. But one is a bully

and the other is misunderstood. The man

meets my eye as I pass, says a near-whispered

hello, gentle eyes wet with what he’s sowed –

the weak will have their day –

we feed the birds we know.