Featured Poem


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.