Pigeons Out of Place

Pigeons Out Of Place Pigeons, sit on cold bronze heads Relieve themselves all day and night for spite Fallen soldiers have no say, they are dead Dirty birdies on branches don’t look right They belong on buildings, rusted statues Cold soldiers are toilets on scheduled flights Among the people in their human view Sitting on the park bench doling out bread Man yawns, while birds bob heads when they are through All of God’s good creatures need to be fed Even filthy pigeons that tarnish things When food is finished, parties head for bed In the morning the birds of nature sing Pigeons decorate bronze soldiers like kings Created on 9/08/14 for Terza Rima (About anything you like) Poetry Contest