Monday, July 28, 2014

pigeonspeak

i am a garage eagle
my mountains are made
of concrete and brick.
metal, smoking animals
crawl through my
cave.
bellowing and loud
sometimes they
hit us.
i feed here and here
is where my mate
and family dwells.
my aerie is a
compartment
a recess in the wall.
here i nest and
i rest.
i do not complain.
i can hide from the
winds and the
snows
and the rain.
painted 7/27/14

2 comments:

Helga Maria Szameit said...

I love this poem!! I also love pigeons, raised one from a bare naked squab. He grew up with a Boxer who waited to lick the dish and syringe at feeding time, and a squirrel who was paralyzed from the waist down. When I tried to introduce him to my 2 ringneck turtle doves, he freaked out. He was imprinted on us and had no idea he was a pigeon, still doesn't after 19 years. He is the guardian of my bedroom and the upstairs.

karen lyons kalmenson said...

❤️๐Ÿ•Šthat is a beautiful thing you did for that precious baby bird and your other critters. So very glad you enjoyed my poem and thank you ๐Ÿ•Š❤️

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i am older than dirt and proud of it!!!! i have managed to incorporate my eternal 60's nation spirit with the high tech 21st century world. i am an artist/writer, who dabbles in rhyme, and, sometimes, reason. my passions are my husband, who is truly the wind that ruffles my sails, animals rights, yoga, the beach, waking up in the morning. i find inspiration in too many things to list, and far too many more to remember. i have added sketching, watercolor painting, and photography to my ways of expressing joy and gratitude. from living with a chronic illness, i have learned the beauty of each day, and treat each as another sun salutation, and another chance. P.S. all painting, poems and photographs are my originals karen Lyons kalmenson