Pigeon. Fragile pigeon.
City roof-born hunter.
I cannot imagine
the climes you enter.
Fly to high places for this fist of nuts.
Maybe your eye will open while mine shuts.

The narrow street is quiet.
Quick! Get all you can!
Fear not this idle poet.
I'm safe, like the sun.
But engineers and salesmen with mortgages to pay
endanger this on which we perch and preach and prey.