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.


© savvi 2023
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critique and comments welcome.
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 <span title="New Commenter" style="font-size : small; color: blue;">*</span><p>

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.

 <span title="Pro Commenter" style="font-size : small; color: red;">***</span><p>

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 »

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