Seven City Pigeons
Seven pigeons sitting cold in the snow,
upon a street sign trembling;
and the snow is falling.
As if on cue they fly on snowy wings,
circling the city buildings;
till a safe ledge is found.
Beautiful they smooth their heavy feathers,
sitting quiet in the cold;
as snowflakes drift about.
How I wish my own weary heart could fly,
and as winter blows and roars;
I could just fold my wings.
O, but could I fly like seven pigeons,
and close my eyes to winter;
and the snow is falling.
_______________________________
February 16, 2013
Poetry/Kimo/Seven City Pigeons
Copyright Protected, ID 13-1188-189-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Submitted to FFI Blog Series 27- Kimo
Brian Strand
Podium Place 1
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