A blob of fluff fallen
on the scuff of bitumen
where a walker strolls
in the winter cold.
A tiny feathered thing
with a chance to live.
Person takes this thing
as yet unformed, to calm
and sun and makes a nest
and pigeon lives and knows
and finds a place one day
where cosmos grows
to be half pigeon
and half like the human heart
who gave it life and walks by
still.
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