Rock Doves

Pigeon, you seem so restless
in all of your taking off and landing
and scuttling about.

You have gotten lost in alleyway life.
You have formed metropolis fixations.

Your little bird psyche
of subway and sidewalk
of rooftop and lonely sill.

Pigeon, have you forgotten your heritage
as symbol of the invisible?

Creature of city nooks.
Percher of our electric cords.

What are you a symbol of now?

I’ve heard neighbors call you
rats with wings.

I’ve heard women pinning up laundry
refer to you as termites of the sky.

When we have no one else, we let you
eat our crumbs.

When we consider you, it’s only
so that you won’t stain us
with your shit.

Pigeon, we no longer see you as dove
so tarnished,
so impure.

You are one of us now.