Pigeons

The pigeons know all answers.
They taunt with each peck
I knew that
Could’ve told you
But never do.

They’re all around us, ignored.
Scuffed away when they come too close
Tossed crunchy crumbs on winter ice
if we remember.
Living off scraps.

We feel no empathy
Blind to their existence
Deaf to their know-it-all coos.
Winged-rats,
not like us.

But those pigeons have seen it all
From the caps of clouds to the soles of shoes
Salty seas to rusting rooftops
All of nature’s expense and expanse
They feel the answers.

We’re not asking.

 

 

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Picture credit: flickr.com/photos/46430981@N02/8479843393

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Author: Al Lane

Writer, Poet, Daydreamer

24 thoughts on “Pigeons”

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