Poem ‘Five Minutes’

Common rock pigeon (Columba livia)
(Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Five Minutes

It’s only a pigeon’s call,
three short squawks
repeated ad infinitum.
I wonder why
he has so much to say
but this is his life:
during the day he eats,
at dusk he turns to sleep

A car arrivesโ€” sounds like
the slick bass purr of a German V6,
crunching on gravel.
A door slamming marks an end,
maybe shopping unloaded:
the beginning of silence.
And then the pigeon
starts over all over again

poem ยฉ copyright df barker 2012

32 thoughts on “Poem ‘Five Minutes’

  1. I sat here and read this a couple time or more
    and realized with the slamming of a door, we could be the pieon
    living in 5 minute increments…always starting
    over again…

    I liked this one
    I just knew you had painted a picture of an empty bench with pigeons on the ground….that was what i saw…

    Tanks Dave…
    a thought provoking one today it seems



  2. and that would Thanks …I think I need another cup of coffee LOls


  3. Very nice. I love all birds, even pigeons. They look so lovely when they are in flight. Great capture of a moment in time and universality of life. Or do I have it all wrong?


  4. Thank you so much for your comments, Russell. You are quite right, my intention was to capture an essence of universality in a little ‘window’. ๐Ÿ™‚


  5. I’d rather be the pigeon. ๐Ÿ™‚ I loved reading this, I can just picture it all. I wasn’t sure where you were going, but when you got there and circled back I cracked a big smile. hehh nice one!


  6. I worked for several years as a legal secretary and legislative assistant in an office building in a city in Georgia where there were LOTS of pigeons on the ledges outside our office windows. They behaved exactly as you describe when a delivery truck would screech to a halt down on the street! I know pigeons make a lot of “dirt”, but I still love them, anyway, for all they have to say to me!


  7. I enjoyed this poem immensely. You created a reallynice contemplative feeling in your descriptions. Time almost seemed to be standing still.
    I don’t have many pigeons around of the European variety, but some live under the bridge in the park near me and I’m always amazed by the colouring and patterning of their feathers.
    Thank you for sharing such a lovely poem. It’s been a relaxing moment in my day.


  8. This is a funny thing for me to share, David, but I took a photo of a pigeon today. Ha! I find them interesting, and I now see that you do, too! You captured their repetitive existence beautifully…Debra


  9. Oh this is lovely…. i live in a high rise, its actually a huge residential complex of several high rises..used to be a small forest out here..now the pegions have made their nests in the building where ever they can..and I can tell you this( your poetry) is exactly the scenario here
    They do chirp a lot have lots to say …what a lovely poem David
    Have a wonderful week ๐Ÿ™‚


  10. Christine, thank you so much! Hope you are well. We’ve got someone coming to visit us today, originally from Leeds (your part of the world); she was at Uni with my wife over thirty years ago, Sophia Jasieczek (spelling might be off), her parents were Polish refugees after the war. Amazingly (for these days) they have stayed in contact all this time.


  11. “I wonder why
    he has so much to say
    but this is his life:
    during the day he eats,
    at dusk he turns to sleep”

    Boy, the layers to that are so many…how often can we identify with this pigeon, creatures of routine…


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