A pigeon sits
centre of the footpath
coming up to midday.
Its feathers puffed-up
nestled in a nesting position
on the shady side of the street.
Cut and red
where its neck
once would’ve stuck out
it has been proven
even less I know
how all this came to be
and to the great unknowing
I repeat the name of light
for all it might shed.
Kelly Malone 