THE FLUTTER of blue pigeons wings
Under a river bridge
Hunting a clean dry arch,
A corner for a sleep
This flutters here in a womans hand.
A singing sleep cry,
A drunken poignant two lines of song,
Somebody looking clean into yesterday
And remembering, or looking clean into
To-morrow, and reading,
This sings here as a womans sleep cry sings.
Pigeon friend of mine,
Fly on, sing on.