A hundred pigeons fly
A winged cloud rushing by
I stand here like a tree
As feathers fly by me
I could put out my hands
And snag them from the sky
But why?
I want them to fly.
A winged cloud rushing by
I stand here like a tree
As feathers fly by me
I could put out my hands
And snag them from the sky
But why?
I want them to fly.
~Kathie Brown (1-6-09)
4 comments:
HA!! I love that poem. The picture is great too. We have a ton of pigeons in the downtown area where I work. They don't fly past us though. In fact, they walk righ alongside all of the hurried people on the street. Very weird.
Another beautiful poem! And, about...pigeons! I remember one year, one of my girls did her science project on pigeons! She actually went out and counted the various colors of pigeons. I believe white was the most rare!
That is a lot of Pigeons,I can only imagine the mess they leave.
Blessings,Ruth
Kallen, the stress of city life has altered their brains and behavior I think!
Cheryl Ann, what an interesting project. Pigeons can get a bad wrap and I certainly don't want them in my yard, but they are amusing.
Ruth, yes thay do. It was reported in the local news recently that the awning over a gas staion in Yuma AZ collaped due to the weight of their droppings!
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