The wind chilled the dead pigeons
the chimney had long been dormant,
if they had lain elsewhere
their beaks would carried the seeds of change,
yet the graded storeys were never condemned
as long as the Portland stone cladding
was not too evasive,
growls from under the porridge table
by the occasioned Ginger
spared these absurd notions
Nov 10, 2012
Nov 10, 2012 at 4:38 PM UTC
The wind chilled the dead pigeons
the chimney had long been dormant,
if they had lain elsewhere
their beaks would carried the seeds of change,
yet the graded storeys were never condemned
as long as the Portland stone cladding
was not too evasive,
growls from under the porridge table
by the occasioned Ginger
spared these absurd notions
Request permission to use this poem