Dream Pigeons of London Town
By Julie Bowles
for dreamers, night workers, sleepwalkers, insomniacs.
Limping through our early hours
on half-broken feet
they find a foothold
Midnight messengers alighting
to pick softly
at the day's remains.
Cold comfort found huddled
under solitary railway arches
Together yet
one eye open,
dull grey gives way
to puffed up, bruised iridescence.
Circling and cooing softly over
the same spot of waste ground
barbed wire cannot keep them
from rustling
their tail feathers
through our early hours.
The rush and flutter of their flight
disappearing skyward
tell-tale white streaks across
the dawning city sky
the only sign
they had landed in our dreams at all.
