Pigeon!

Prized, pretty pigeon! Poor little pigeon!

Weary of wandering places legion

Mellow chirps all morning long

Tuneful twittering through the throng

Yet again you came to meet

Fleeing away from your fleet

Gently you perched on the rails

Whispered all you brought in mails

Innocent eyes and empty face adorn

Befitting gray a plumage worn

Turning, twisting neck so vigil

messenger of sorrow or peace's sigil?

Plumping, rubbing, itching your skin

Stung and smitten, seemed injured from within

Pecking all along that iridescent neck

As if intent on reducing to speck

An innocence similar I had seen

Lovely visits as hers yours had been

More I looked at you, I traversed in time

And filled my eyes with moments sublime

Just when I held you dear and adored your sight

You looked back to me and took a flight

Hope is another may come my home

when it would settle for life after all the roam.