Loretta Riach
O Pigeon
Sometimes I think that a pigeon could
be the most beautiful creature I have ever seen.
Those eyes, o pretty darling,
that swollen raincloud look of yours.
Sometimes I wish a big flock of pigeons would come down around me
and lift me
by the collar of my shirt
and spirit me away
in a cloud of
sentimental cooing.
Sometimes I get really worried,
and everything feels bloated and sodden
like a hot air balloon disaster of the mind.
Often the sky is grey like the belly of a pigeon, don’t you think.
I wake up and things are hard out there, wouldn’t you agree.
When things are the way they are –
I watch the pigeons that live
on the building facade across from my window
and their intricate marital disputes,
and their tiny gestures of rage,
the bowing and dancing and small pleasures,
so much murmuring and trilling with miniature delight.
Then the world feels big again.
Loretta Riach is twenty-two, an artist, and a writer. They live in Te Whanganui-a-Tara, where they make art and words about rocks and memory. You can find their writing in previous issues of Starling, Issue 13 of minarets, and on their website (lorettariach.com).