Always Pigeons

Always pigeons
fluttering wings
around the coach station
through the concourse
in transit people are untethered

Vacant stares possessions in bin bags, someone asking for change as arrivals arrive in a designated space.

And the ground is too frozen for the gravediggers,
they will have to wait for the thaw.

There will be no funeral today.

In this weather it seems the world is smoking and the stillness is freeze framed.

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