Pigeons

I’ve never seen pigeons argue

I only see them soar

I don’t know if a pigeon is naïve or worldly

I just know it has no past to make it toil through life

Maybe they’re the tongues of the air

Lazily expressing cars’ sighs

Maybe they’re lined up on the roof

Vying to perform snow’s wedding

One day I stick my head out the window

And realize their nation is the act of soaring

Soaring makes my silence meaningless

Thank god, they’ve taught me how to talk about nations!

Standing under a flock of pigeons, I think oh

People aren’t even worth one flower blooming toward them