Featured Poem
Pigeons
Brad Vickers
So far when I lift my morning window
I hear their gurgling “coos”, louder
than my clock radio.
I like pigeons.
It doesn’t take much to be their friend.
Just a crack in the window big enough
for a crust of bread to pass through.
Every morning I sip coffee between
the conversations of pigeons — every morning
I nod and pretend to understand.
Originally published in Coneflower Cafe, 2022.