A pigeon hit my hand
today
As he flew up I could feel
A small soft head,
Bump and brush my knuckles.
And quick wings took him away
above the walls,
the people.
me.
I could feel you in my mouth
two days ago
brushing my face
aside
Fast breaths
Blue hair
Blonde eyes
And the old woman
hangs our laundry
smiling.
I can still feel him grab my
arm
Last week.
Rough hands
that hate me now
Liquor eyes,
sad breath,
and a thumb digs
desperation into my cheek
And I fly,
above him,
the people,
and me.
About the Creator
Christine Jupp
I call Portland my home, even though I don't see it often.
Mostly poetry.
Some prose and short stories.
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More stories from Christine Jupp and writers in Poets and other communities.
A New Beginning
Tony couldn’t sit still, crossing and uncrossing his legs, trying to calm his trembling hands as Clara stood at the office window deep in thought. The airline ticket in his shirt pocket moved to the beat of his heart¬– each beat bringing back the nightmare causing memories of the words he’d spoken over ten years ago. Thanks to Clara he’d finally gained the courage to buy that ticket.
By Gerald Holmes4 days ago in Fiction
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