Wednesday, June 13, 2007

1944

When the pigeons flew startled into the air

sounds like flap we say
sounds like what we cannot say
a mouth cannot form wing, say many wings beating

he ran. They always knew where the bombs
would land, could hear the whistle high above.
Like they knew the hawk, how predators

swooped from the cover of clouds.
When the bomb exploded in the square
he was far enough away, he was
saved. Now he walks slowly
on the flagstones, sits on a bench with his hands

overflowing with seed. Pigeons coo coo
at his feet or perch and peck on the bench rail.
Sometimes they fly up in a body, startled
by something he cannot hear or see.

sounds like flap we say
sounds like what we cannot say
a mouth cannot form wing, say many wings beating


He comes here every morning.
He comes here every morning.