Catch that pigeon
Waiting for retirement
I used to feel as smart
as a done up top button,
always sat up straight
for the spare milk.
But collars get tighter
long days try to apologise,
children get carried like rugby balls
to the weekend try line.
With age comes responsibility
so I applied and got the job
the fountain of all knowledge,
apparently “youth” was already taken.
So now they ask and I tell them,
they ask again and I show them.
Each day my pigeon fly’s out the window
and returns with messages
heavy around his ankle.
So I sit in the dark and read them,
I look at my phone and I read them.
He tells me what it’s like,
the freedom of flight
out over the city down the tracks
into the country, washing high
over the coast.
I hope one day he never comes back.
I like the idea of children being carried like rugby balls towards the weekend try line. But I’m not sure what you mean by that, what you’re trying to describe.
Also, “flies”, I think you mean.
Hi Archie thank you for the flies; sorry so late getting back I thought I had replied to your post but it would appear not, still getting to grips with the new site.
This poem has a lot of depth and meaning to which many can relate. To me, it speaks of what it feels like to grow older, especially in the work place. There’s a wry tone, a weary pithiness to this. And the comparison/parallel of speaker to pigeon is a powerful analogy: both are required to serve and carry/deliver ‘messages’ or information at this crucial point in their existence. The last stanza is wonderful, the last line so evocative of the longing to leave all the ‘duties’ and responsibilities of work behind. To be free. Agree with Archie on ‘flies’ and… Read more »
Thank you Bel, youve given me a few things to have a look at and think about here, the children being carried etc was just about never having enough time with them and always feeling as though rushing towards the weekend by going through the motions.Best Keith