Friday, October 7, 2011

October Poem: Besides Squirrels, This Is All I've Got


Pigeon


I hate their eyes
taking in the park
like a harvest.

They show up                           for gold

touching crumbs
like Midas
they stay                                  with rock colored wings

in the rock colored street

                                                  beneath rows of starlings
                                                   like airplanes leaving

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