The Pigeon

I watched a pigeon jump upstairs,

he lunged toward each step

couldn't he fly?

well,

can't I run?

down the street, feet

autopilot

something reeling me in?

take

taken

taking moments

how many skies rest in each cloud?

I think I'll sit and count

unwrap me from distraction

from the hallucination of life

why be bothered when someone's unbothered,

you should try being unbothered,

does this sentence bother you?

existing in a hurry is like unraveling a ball of string someone else is rolling up

there is no end and once you find it, you're exhausted

the details I see with my glasses on are phenomenal

all the lines

strands on a feather

the calmness in the chaos you keep avoiding

I think you need glasses

I think you need to be the pigeon jumping upstairs