Poetry Blogs (Pigeon)
The Poor Little Dove
To watch the wind play with the wave,
I sat on a bench by the museum garden pond.
Then a small pigeon came flying,
Landing to her feet, tiny and cute,
And stared up at me, a bit intensely,
Only blinking her eyes, with no other move.
She looked like a baby as a camera model,
Getting me to recall my infanthood picture.
I took s...
Thursday 25th June 2020 11:55 am