Saturday, August 3, 2013
Pigeons Comments
Rating: ★5.0
Under the hot sun, I begin to wither,
So I sit awhile down by the river.
It isn’t my intention to share my lunch,
But, around my feet, the pigeons bunch.
...
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3/12/2026 11:51:41 PM # 1.0.0
A wonderful poem, the end was a bit abrupt though. The flow of words is like the flow of the Thames, the poem itself as beautiful as a pigeon. Then he snatches the morsel from my hand, And, straightaway, some more pigeons land. More of his kind continue to arrive; Bustling around like bees in a hive. Liked this part the most.