Street life

Lined up along the ledge,

above the streets and gutters

where they huddle together,

tucking their beaks

under blankets of dirty wings,

until nodding

and bobbing

their heads,

they take up the spin

of the world turning round—

and return to the spoils of the street,

eyes rimmed red.

*   *   *

Street life — Poem and photo by Mary O’Connor; poem from Dreams of a Wingless Child, collection of verses by Mary O’Connor, Wheatmark, © 2007


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