A Wood Pigeon Reminisces
Into the complex midst of sparrows jabbering,
the sharp violence of two robins jousting,
comes the master of the garden, stomach bloated,
dressed in a fine grey suit, in no rush for anyone,
inspecting the territory, which he knows he owns,
emits a calm the others around cannot achieve.
His achievements are small, however,
he and his wife have created a small clan,
a son and daughter, both older now, he sighs
and waddles over to where he detects a worm,
a brief cock of the head to check, and he’s there.
The snack is satisfying, and he leans back
and remembers that time transporting meals
to his children, ravaging the seeds he supplied,
kept him busy, for sure, didn’t carry the weight
his retirement allows, the paunch of success.