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ON RESCUING AN INJURED PIGEON
	I.
sliding screen door screeches, pigeons scatter
thump of wing against breast, shockwave breeze
more frequent than in the past, shimmering necks
soundtrack squirrel zig-zags, new-green lawn
perches like the pigeons, await my departure

	II.
he appeared in the night, a tattered statue
grey as the rumbling skies, white patch on his back
must be hurt, too painful to move, teal collar
my compassion swells, how can I help?
leave him seed and water, natural healing

	III.
red-toed demon leaving bird-turd on my deck
can barely walk let alone fly away, railing perch
rain or sun sits most of the day, ruffled feathers
hit his head or fallen, maybe a scuffle with a cat
wants to be part of a flock, I move closer

	IV.
day three I made him a coop, Bucky by name
Becky if it’s a girl, I’m not checkin’, won’t go in
moving better, flies a little, short bursts
still prefers my perch, watch him sleep, still
hours to days, nothing seems to change

	V.
the four-legged’s have found the coop and feed		
I become my grandmother chasing chipmunks, futile
Bucky likes grass, hacksaw walk, double-banded
looks strong enough to fly, abandoned racer
wonder, is it psychological or could it me?

	VI.
trail of seeds brought him to the edge, coop and me
as I watch him he watches me, wide ruddy eyes
huddles in a ball on one foot, freckled vest
finally, twice today he found his way to the coop
sad he can’t go home, sheltered but dispossessed.

	VII.
animal rescuer Howard came with a net today
tried clumsily to catch him, lift and accelerate
over the treetops he flew, circled back to land
from the rooftop he smiled down at us, relieved
proof time heals all wounds, in rock pigeon world.

Aug 30/18

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