I have noticed a pigeon
atop the iron grill
outside my window.
Yesterday it perched
by the sill awhile,
then flew back to the grill,
to stay the customary night.
My companion of nightly
contemplations and
academic writing.
Nesting in unlikely places.
finding momentary refuge,
pausing for movement,
trading beginnings for ends
and verdicts for silence.
Is that you, my grey friend,
or me? I wonder.
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