Wednesday, January 7, 2026

The Pigeon by Mary Kipps

 

Quang Nguyen Vinh

The Pigeon

On a cobblestone street corner

in the marketplace of old Jodhpur,

three young men are crouching

around what the populace

commonly referred to as a flying rat.

The pigeon, shocked to earth

by a spark in the tangle

of overhead electrical wires

where it had perched,

holds one wing tightly against its body,

while the other, fully extended,

flaps in spastic bursts.


Sheltering the bird 

from the wheels of motorbikes

and errant footsteps of pedestrians,

the men dribble bottled water

slowly, gently, over the quivering body,

trying to dispel the tremors.

What will happen to it, if they can’t

revive it? I ask my tour guide.

Then they will move it somewhere safe

and care for it until it dies.


© Mary Kipps


Mary Kipps

Mary Kipps enjoys composing in traditional forms as well as in free verse. A former Pushcart Prize nominee, her poems have appeared regularly in journals and anthologies across the U.S. and abroad since 2005.

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