Rain which washes stone and freshens wreaths <br />might level older vets like sniper fire. <br />Umbrellas, speedily deployed, volley <br />voluble pigeons into balcony seats. <br />The sun jabs cloud like a farmer forking mire <br />occluded by a crust of melancholy. <br /> <br />Pigeons in 'the gods' have much to say: <br />on feathered wings and naked arms; on choirs; <br />on human waywardness; on pigeon folly. <br />Now and then, just for a laugh they play <br />Where's Wally?<br /><br />Diane Hine<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/memorial-service-curtal-sonnet/
