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Jay's Poetry
Saturday, November 3, 2007
Pigeons
I always thought of Pigeons as “rat birds”
Hanging around everywhere – sitting and shitting on everything.
But they were kinda pretty. Iridescent feathers that caught the light just right.
We used to have lots of pigeons.
I wonder where they have gone.
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Bailey's Buddy
There's no money in poetry, but then there's no poetry in money, either.
-Robert Graves, poet and novelist (1895-1985)
My thoughts from here and there
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Moved around
Some of them seem to
come from nowhere -
Others are carefully cultivated
Nurtured and cared for
until they grow
ready to share
A brightness from my heart
A gift -
A part of me.
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Another Third Degree
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Pigeons
November 3, 2007
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