Stupid Pigeon

A poem — based on a true story

Not a pidgeon, but a bird from my balcony view.

It slams into the window with a thud.

I cannot help but laugh

and admire its efforts

Oh, stupid pigeon, I think.

But I spare a moment from my work

To, perhaps, glean what this pigeon is worth.

I catch a glimpse of two frightened beads

bulbous, empty, but filled with purpose.

I first see hope — of a promised land

fruits bountiful in my kitchen bowl — no more scavenging desert sand

successfully entering the gates of a lavish, safe haven.

Stupid pigeon, just in search of a life worth living for.

But then I sense despair

an attempt to escape constant environmental competition,

constant alert — freeing itself from a cagey life of attrition.

It tries one more time, slamming into the window

I hear it sing — or is that a cry?

“Hallelujah?” Or “Life’s Not Fair?”

I laugh again as it flies away this time

because I think I saw a bit of me, in its eyes.

The Power of Poetry