Pigeons in the Park

Pigeons in the Park

The pigeons in the park
Flock together.
They walk zig-zag paths,
Pecking at the ground,
Greenish-blue necks sparkling
In the sunlight.

They spy someone with 
Sandwich,
Or chips,
And they are always there,
Catching every dropped morsel.
Hungry birds,
With childlike love for their stomachs,
Like toddlers at an icecream van.

Pigeons have
A mating dance.
It's funny to watch.
The cock puffs out
Feathers and chest,
And struts.
Big poser,
Wooing the female
Who ignores him.
Or is she pretending?
She keeps her back to him,
And walks slowly away.
He moves behind her,
In front of her,
To the left,
To the right
And every time
She turns
And walks in
The opposite direction,
But she is acting,
Feigning disinterest.
It is just part of
The instinctive dance.

The pigeons in the park
Flock together,
Until a train approaches
Along the nearby line.
They hear those booming low pitches
Long before human ears.
Abruptly, as one,
The whole flock lifts
And flies away,
Startling and confusing
Human observers.
They say that pigeons
Can hear earthquakes
On the other side of the world.

So many pigeons.
One day
Pigeons will rule the world.
And rightly so!