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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=463596" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>An Intruder, cont, cont</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">The first thing I did next (actually rather fine) <br>Morning was to open the door and check on Pigeon.<br>I admire determination in man or bird<br>Even determination ventured for its own sake<br>There being no other course to choose; <br>That, notwithstanding, in all faith, <br>I expected to see Pigeon fled, the flower pot empty, <br>Her shambles of a nest gone, gone, gone, <br>Blown, stick over piddling stick under paltrey stick, to the four corners-<br>Swept away, like Giancarlo Giannini <br>In the so-named movie popular a few years back.<br>But (surprise) , weatherwise all was fine and morning-bright<br>Whereas the heavens were low and kvetchy, overnight, <br>Now they were high, preternaturally blue and cloud free; <br>Whereas, last night the rain made credible the flood-myth<br>Now the leaves were pliant, crisp and green, <br>Like the skin of youth, restored, <br>As though to show, despite the furor of the storm<br>They pulled through pretty good, anyhow.<br>Only some water stood placid in the bowls<br>To evidence the deluge of the night-<br>The bees already grazing in the buds<br>As though it never happened, the storm, <br>Nature being so resilient, usually, <br>Recovery, for her, just another part of the game-<br>Foregone, for granted taken, no big deal.<br>The stone was bathed in squares of yellow light<br>And barely any shade. But Pigeon? Prepared for the worst<br>And peeping between two parted fingers, hand<br>Otherwise shielding my eyes, I forced myself to look: <br>Ausgezeichnet! (or whatever the word is) there she was! <br>Quite unflapped and looking in fine feather<br>Sitting roundly on the flower-pot nest, half-sunk, <br>In that peculiar red-eyed trance<br>I called determination-if it wasn't just instinct working <br>Looking, if anything, cleaner than before, <br>Looking as if nothing happened, <br>As, indeed, nothing really had, <br>Storms unfraught with memories, correlations, remembered horrors<br>To those living in Nature. They simply are.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Hi, Pigeon, ' I cried, quickly forgetting my fears, ....</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Morgan+Michaels">Morgan Michaels</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=463596" data-title="An Intruder, cont, cont de Morgan Michaels" data-description="The first thing I did next (actually rather fine) Morning was to open the door and check on Pigeon. I admire determination in man or bird Even determination ventured for its own sake There being no other course to choose; That, notwithstanding, ..."></div> </div> </div>
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