Ode to the Brooklyn Pigeon
Oh, fat, feathered bird
Who flies away upon my sight,
My woof, my stealth approach
Who lifts thy massive weight
Pizza, bread and such
Skyward but three feet or so
To settle quick again
Upon the next desired crumb.
Who flies to eat,
Who eats to fly.
Urban bird
Who brings us joy.
In our cement confinement
Finds content.
Oh, pigeon, show me
Even so, my approach
Doth cause you
Flight but in your labored
flight you teach me
How to leap beyond
The known. To fly
If hardly fly at all.
You lift your feathered weight.
We learn of freedom even thus
On leash. On leash
We each in our own way
Constrained and yet
We leap, we run
We take to wing
We grasp at freedom
In the sky beyond
Our grasp.
We settle down
To think upon
Worlds beyond.
Unknown, where our
Departed loves must fly
Free, unleashed, unbound.
Percy Bysshe Shelley II, 3 month-old cocker spaniel