Hmmm, I’ve always had such mixed emotions about pigeons, now they are even more tumultuous. I love their cooing in the morning, but their eyes haunt me. I’m captivated by the iridescent feathers on their necks, but turn away in horror at a mangled foot or wing. And now to know that we humans are also the ones to blame for pigeons current predicament is just one more thing to scratch my head at about them.
In Manhattan's hustle, where towers loom high,
A youth amid the urban bustle thrives.
With solace sought in skies, where pigeons fly,
Yet humans' neglect, their feathered kin deprives.
.
With crumbs in hand, he makes new winged friends,
Whose trust he earns through kindness, day by day.
'Mid city's rush, their bond begins to blend,
As smpathy ignites, herein displayed.
.
In sorry whispers, he seeks to atone,
For history's snub, man's cruel, dismissive gaze.
Of pigeons' plight, a story to be sown,
Forging anew a bond that time betrays.
.
Keep forging those bonds with those forsaken birds, JT. Your grandpa would be proud.
I know, I felt Field’s presence while writing this.
Your poem is so brilliantly done,
I hope you found that writing it was fun!
Hmmm, I’ve always had such mixed emotions about pigeons, now they are even more tumultuous. I love their cooing in the morning, but their eyes haunt me. I’m captivated by the iridescent feathers on their necks, but turn away in horror at a mangled foot or wing. And now to know that we humans are also the ones to blame for pigeons current predicament is just one more thing to scratch my head at about them.
The best of life is found in contradiction!
Thanks for sharing, JT. Pigeons definitely are débrouillard.
They sure are. It’s amazing how much nature there is when you choose to look.