Pigeon Man Poem by norman hale

There he sits on a bench in the park
Throwing popcorn to the pigeons on the ground
Talking to them as if they are his best friends
They just eat and listen without hardly making a sound

He has a couple of them a bit spoiled
One sits on his shoulder and another on his knee
cooing and bobbing their heads up and down
While he sits there in the shade of the tree

He's just a simple kind old man
Who realy enjoys the company of those birds
And some of the times they'll stop and listen
As he speaks to them in his own words

It's just his escape from his four walls
His old apartment that he calls home
In a way he hates to go back in
For he knows how much he'll feel alone

You'll find him there on that park bench
For the most part of the everyday
He's just passin time with friends
Until he's six feet under the clay

He's just an old man, who's family has passed on
He don't want anyone to pitty him at all
but when he's out there with his bird friends
They make him feel about ten feet tall

wrote 12/31/2009 by Norman Hale Jr