The Pigeons

As the resident musician
Plays to the regular crowd
That fills the courtyard,
My companion's pointing finger
Draws my attention above
To a spot in the shadows

Where two pigeons sit, staring,
Trapped after the canopy
Was drawn to keep out the rain,
Perched on the speakers
And all the while observing
The unsuspecting dancers,

And after a few drinks
I let my mind wander,
Wondering if a similar vision
Inspired Poe or Hitchcock,
The power and horror
Of something so small,
The mundane put out of place
And into the darkness above.


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