Scene at a Park

Pigeon Flock by ~littlecorvid13 via deviantART

Blue rocks with pink feet
in the park, pigeons’
coos echo to amuse
the man on the bench.

Crossed legs, crossed brows,
the impatient man
looks high and low for someone
who will make the wait worth it.

Red lips and white smile
a head with red, flowing hair
walks up to the impatient
and whispers in hot breaths.

Her hand taps; he gasps.
the pair of strangers
departs for the night
while perturbed pigeons take flight.


July 23, 2012 – In the office. While waiting for 9PM.

I wrote this post for a colleague to teach her that poetry needs some sort of situation to work with. It’s where metaphors and metonymy latch on to. It’s what similes embellish. It’s what paradox and ironies bend into interesting interpretations.

I’m not especially proud of this draft yet, so if you could point out any suggestion, comment, or insight, please do. I’d appreciate a different point of view. Thanks!


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