Douglas firs
By queen beatle
- 79 reads
Seeking a soft out,
you open the curtains
and a wood pigeon settles
on the alley wall.
Preening, it breathes
like a wind chime,
fluffs up, swells
to replace the sun,
swallows its role
in the acknowledgement,
the bigger breath,
the all-crashing,
encompassing,
grandness of itself—
and forges into orbit.
The jumping spider
mapping out the windowsill
stops
as watcher becomes the watched.
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Comments
Such a clear observation of
Such a clear observation of what you are seeing,
I really liked this poem.
Jenny.
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excellent
Excellent poem Morwenna! Took a moment to understand what the last stanza meant. Looks like very scary little monsters, "arachnophobia".
And the description of a courting pigeon, through your window lovely, the dance of life, and then the greater picture.
Have a good week! All the best & Nolan
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Brilliant description of a
Brilliant description of a woodpigeon. Not a "soft out" if a jumping spider looks in from it :0)
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