ideas for poems [& for living, i think!]

a lonely pigeon, in the rain, @ night, perched on a windowsill and looking inside a brightly lit, frosted window. clutter filled the sill on the inside. so much so that the insider's view of the pigeon got blocked. but ... the pigeon could see past the clutter enuf to see warmth and vibrance there. and feel her solitude, festering like a slow burning wound.

~~~~~~~~

pigeon so patiently, and faithfully awaiting night's end. as darkness descends, she cosies herself on the sill. and waits. patiently, knowing. and even in the deepest, most visceral stalk of darkness, when the vibrant light of the sun seems so distant, she waits. she does not despair. she waits. and watches. and does not lose faith. she knows.