The Pigeon
The pigeon sits unbothered on top of the train
As if it’s a radiant hill and he owns it
He sits up there unruffled, beak curved into a smile
And looks down at all the travelers, with their suitcases, going someplace
No one wants to be a pigeon
When there are trains to be ridden
We underestimate the benefit of wings
When we have never truly flown
The travelers, going someplace, suitcase handles in hand
Hair ruffled, frowns etched forever in their skin
On melancholy hills for which they can’t afford rent
Look up at the pigeon on top of the train
They envy him
Cameryn Baker is a freshman at USC in the Dornsife Thematic Option program. She is an English Creative Writing major and hopes to add a minor in screenwriting. While mostly interested in writing stories, she is attempting to branch out into poetry.
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