AT THE OLD WATERHOLE

  

While I was sitting

on a rock beside the pond,

contemplating my image

in an iridescent oil slick,

I overheard a pigeon

speaking “pigeonese”

to another as they sipped

that same water, daintily:

 

“I had no idea

they were so intelligent!”

said pigeon number one.

“They actually have an alphabet,

and are able to have ideas!

Why, I do believe

they communicate together—

have their own civilization,

if you can believe such a thing.”

 

“Who would have thought?”

exclaimed pigeon number two.

“They seem so oblivious,

like huge, blundering dreams!

“Now, if they only had wings to fly,

they’d see everything

from up in the sky,

in perspective, as we do!”