Like Pigeons

By the fountain of looming glory
Where the sun kissed the perching water
And the wind opt scents of potpourri
Amidst, winged pebbles futilely spatter
Like frenzied gargoyles draped in downy.

Stationary pigeons of gray and white
Gyrating tally of ubiquitous palpable flock
Nonchalant of the growing breadth of plight;
Blasé of the weary ticks of a spiraling clock:
Brethren of idiosyncratic ignorance in flight

Beseeching dour and muffled coos
Replete with the pathetic volition
Winged harlequins in parks and flues
Anguish beneath the wings of abomination
Fly like bullets! Fly through the fringe of blue!

Leave, and grow wings that can fluster
In the beaming light it shall project
Greens and blues and all it can muster
The innuendo no one can ever reject
The coup of freedom that you have garnered.

poem by Norman Santos
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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