short fictions

short fictions - Property of Pigeons

Pigeons doze, or rouse
Stripped crescendos of grey rainbow
A living frieze, on the shallow sill of a factory window
Pigeons arise alight, on vertical bases of civic brick
Whitened with avalanches, as if an angel had been sick

Let us grow
Let us grow
Let us grow
Let us grow
Let us grow

[Mr. Rodgers]
Whenever there was a catastrophe in the movies or on the [?]
She would say to me, "Always look for the helpers, there were, there would always be helpers

'till the day I die