Pigeon

The flutter of blue pigeon's wings Under a river bridge Hunting a clean dry arch, A corner for a sleep — This flutters here in a woman's hand. A singing sleep cry, A drunken poignant two lines of song, Somebody looking clean into yesterday And remembering, or looking clean into To-morrow, and reading, — This sings here as a woman's sleep cry sings. Pigeon friend of mine, Fly on, sing on.