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