Bird in a parking garage
Not a flawed mirage.
This small, young pigeon
Looks to be making a decision.
The only movement to be perceived
Is the movement upon its wings.
Once it has done its calculations
The bird does not have hesitations
To take advantage of its power
And escape this almost tower.
I watch as it takes a lurch,
And begins its descent
Off its concrete perch.
A very brave thing indeed
To jump with uncertainty,
And yet it still proceeds.
I do not know where it is now
But I do think of this young fowl.
The feathers still full of fluff,
Its chest was puffed up enough,
Still so young,
Barely out from being a chick -
The fluff was still quite thick,
The downy feathers,
Well they had put it all together.
That pigeon and I,
Though I do still have
My own downy feathers,
Only one of us can truly fly.
-
Author:
Caitlin Elizabeth (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: July 24th, 2025 14:29
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 11
- Users favorite of this poem: Cheeky Missy
Offline)
Comments2
A great metaphor in this poem nicely written
Thank you!
You are welcome
A lovely write with Lovely meaning, enjoyed the read
Thank you, I’m glad you enjoyed it!
You are very welcome
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