The Pigeon – Evermore
Little Suzanne came home
with puzzlement raised about her
as if she’d forgotten to put her hand down
before leaving school today.
Rather than her boisterous explosion
into the kitchen for her afternoon
attention and cookies
she came in like a zephyr.
The first sally thrown by her loving mother,
usually opened a maelstrom
of insights, stories, and giggles,
today, went unattended.
“Mother, what did the pigeons tell you today?”
Such a startling and peculiar question,
left dear Mother bereft of an answer,
and wondering quite a bit.
Silence talked for moments more,
and Mother found it was her turn
to giggle today instead of Little Suzanne,
next prodding gently for context.
Today, the lesson in school which whisked away
all other attentions, questions, or silly stories,
quite capturing all thoughts
had been about metaphors, similes and poetry.
And though similes looked an awful lot like lots of smiles
the greater meaning took hold
as a dandelion roots into a new lawn
transforming the rest of the day into a quest.
“Yes, you see, there have been pigeons on the playground
for days and days and days and days now,
but rather than coo-ing, or doing whatever it is pigeons do for sound
they have been as quiet as pictures.”
“And the teacher had read about a man
Named Poe who heard a raven speak…
And at lunch today I saw the pigeon I’d decided whose name is Larry,
The same one who always seemed to sit near me on the ledge above the hopscotch, just watching.”
“Today he seemed louder in his vigil,
and surely if he could speak, surely today he would have said, ‘never more.’
And down the ledge from him two more pigeons stood
Breast to breast, beak to beak in noiseless territorial defiance.”
“Odder still was the pigeon who had said goodbye to me today
Staring quite pointedly, like Pappa after he’s said something three times already,
As if I’d been caught not paying attention,
still as a statue, the pigeon sat, a different one than Larry, without fluttering, or shuffling, or bobbing.”
“So on the way home, I thought and thought,
Trying to remember if I had heard Larry say something,
And only forgot…or been preoccupied by the hop-ee-taw
Still I can’t recall, did Larry say nevermore?”
“Then perhaps it is a secret
and the statue bird was warning me not to tell the ravens,
who perhaps are rivals, squaring off,
and pigeons should only utter, ‘ephemeral’.”
“But if your pigeons said nothing to you,
Perhaps then I will wait
And ask Larry tomorrow what it is pigeons should say,
And assure him I can keep his secret, evermore.”
Then bouncing up as light as a feather
Little Suzanne flew across the kitchen
happily gathering her two treats,
ready for her next adventure.
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