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The Pigeon Swooped
The pigeon swooped in for a landing
And settled itself on the rail,
Surveying the chop of the river,
So cocky it must have been male.
Though varied in grays on its body,
Its neck shone with purple and green,
A common enough iridescence,
Like many a pigeon I’ve seen.
It didn’t stay long in the sunshine
And soon, with a flap of its wings,
It soared on the breeze heading skyward,
In search of more pigeon-type things.
Copyright ©
Ilene Bauer
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