Pigeon on the Sidewalk

I saw a dead pigeon on the sidewalk while walking to work yesterday. I moved around it, heading along Fayette Street toward Salina. But I decided to turn around and come back to the scene and observe the dead bird.

Dead pigeon on the sidewalk. Photo by Francis DiClemente.

I also snapped a picture—my motivation being I wanted to capture an image of the lifeless form as a reminder to myself that my time on earth is limited, that death awaits me. We can’t escape mortality. In one way or another, we all become pigeons splayed on the sidewalk. And while it’s a sobering thought, it helps me to value the life I get to live today.

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The Hawk

Photo by Sarchia Khursheed.

The Hawk

With wings outstretched,
A hawk hovers overhead.
I look up, admiring its flight.
The bird remains aloft,
As a gust of air carries it along
In the stillness of the afternoon.
The hawk soars between the campus buildings,
Then disappears from my sight,
As it pursues a quarry or
Scans the horizon for a perch.

But “no,” I think:
That’s not the way to end the poem.
The lines fail to capture the
Majesty of this creature.
And I realize any words I write
Are doomed to fall short,
As poetry can never improve
What nature has made perfect.

Sidewalk Stories (Kelsay Books, 2017)

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