Pigeon

I remember then,

a long time ago,

my wings and mind were needed,

and I was cared for.

A messenger like Hermes,

swift and fruitful,

soaring everwhere,

your words there to follow.

I’m greatest ally,

through wars, chores

and simple pleasures.

I’m here for the long haul.

But then the winds changed,

you strung your wires,

realised you could advance higher

than the skies I ascend to.

Your discarded ink,

you sent me astray,

didn’t even think that

I would want to stay.

Now I roam city streets,

my skies have become a void.

Nibbling on crumbs, seeds,

and all you’ve left behind.

Our neoclassical home,

is now sheets of metal and glass,

but I return here for,

I remember what it once was.

I still feel you,

your praises brushing against my cheek.

I still hear you,

your requests and the stride of your feet.

And if I still aviate,

around your old street,

even during the summer heat,

even after hundreds of years,

would you see me?

Would you need me?