something about a little street and pigeons
past the road crossed by
pigeons driven by fear
of hurrying commuters
or hunger for fast food
bags
is the last shop
It's forever open door sentried
by wine soaked owner
unsteady on the
edge
pavement and narrow
road bottlenecks so
that with some relief
customers hurry by
Yet. So like the
books he sells
there is no world
until the page is
turned
that door frames
a world of change
that a simple word
unlocks
instead people curse
the pigeons
and worry
about clocks
shouting
departure times
Jul 20, 2016
Jul 20, 2016 at 12:28 PM UTC
something about a little street and pigeons
past the road crossed by
pigeons driven by fear
of hurrying commuters
or hunger for fast food
bags
is the last shop
It's forever open door sentried
by wine soaked owner
unsteady on the
edge
pavement and narrow
road bottlenecks so
that with some relief
customers hurry by
Yet. So like the
books he sells
there is no world
until the page is
turned
that door frames
a world of change
that a simple word
unlocks
instead people curse
the pigeons
and worry
about clocks
shouting
departure times
