You have pigeons then you have a Pigeon
That one came last Sunday
Taking shelter on the kitchen window sill
From the threatening storm
It was not a large one
Seemed lost cowering there in the corner
It didn't move when I brought some crumbs
I noticed the ring on its leg
It was a prized one, or a rare one
But to me, it was still a pigeon
It has a lovely white ring around its eyes
It seemed tamed but wouldn't let me catch it
It flew on the roof, looking at me shyly.
I went in, it cornered again on the kitchen sill.
The storm came, passed, rumbled away
The pigeon had gone.
Lucette C. Bailliet
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