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...

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