Pigeons…garage eagle lore
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.
❤️🐦❤️
We are strong and we belong
No comments:
Post a Comment