At the young of day
I sit and watch pigeons fly
On the red bank youth fled
Down to the river side
Tossed seeds clipped their wings
 
It was much too soon to let go
We hardly began the daily dance
High smile rest upon my hat
Chasing time in a heated gaze

She sat beside...unbothered by my presence
She was, as though i wasn't-
of her days
Would she be angry at my forceful invite?
Too late, for she is here in this state

While pigeons circled life
I watch and ponder our purpose this time
Experience glance behind motive's pounding
Love left my hand empty of a touch.