, , , , , ,

Three Pigeons; One Broken Pane of Glass

Traveling across this land for poetry, taking pictures as I wander. In Kingston, Ontario, the warm morning light on a stone church presses three pigeons forth from their grilled alcoves to preen. As I walk the streets of Toronto, days later, this discarded door reclines by a brick wall, one pane smashed into its shadows, leaves crisping their Autumn into the earth. They converse with each other in diptych tones, saying the world is hearts thrumming and a hollow where seeing was, reminding me to keep always vigilant to my senses in this looking down world.