garage eagle dreams

here i sit,
waiting...
on the fragile
vessels that hold
our babies.
the time passes.
i hope that life
for them, here
in our concrete
aerie,
will be sweet.
and longer than
the lives
of some
of my flock
who were mowed down
by big. fast moving
metal fume machines.
we will care for these
precious gifts
until it is their time
to care for their own.
and we hope...
and in our pigeon way,
we pray.