Waddling unevenly on the ground

A heavy, blunt, ungainly thing

By gawky gait and thick flesh bound

It flaps and struggles to take wing


Once up, a bolt of power and grace

Twisting and gliding in the skies

It revels in its secret race

It will be earthbound when it dies


A shattered, greyish, burst old bag

Much smaller than it seemed in flight

Lies on the road, a filthy rag,

And rat and beetle wait for night.

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  1. Oooh darkness and heaviness are evident here. What prompted this poem to be written Simon?

    • Thanks, Christy.

      Woodpigeons are very common birds here. As described, they’re clumsy on the ground and quite heavy, but agile and fast in flight. They’re quite often road casualties and I think this poem was provoked by seeing one such by the side of the road.


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