Analysis of The Pigeon
I'm out here on a ledge
Hanging around, legs
Dangling down, sunshine upon
Mud-crusted knees
Exchanging conspiracy theories
With a very conspiratorial pigeon
He talks a big line for someone
Who walks along the edge
With no worries of ever falling
To the ground.
He pecks my soda can in
An assertive plea for a corner of my
Peanut butter sandwich
I always comply.
We go through this routine
Every lunch hour unless it is raining
I still come-- he claims it makes
His feathers frizzy, preening frantically between mysterious sideways glances
He informs me the noon hour
Is just too damned hot for staying awake
And the sunset over the big buildings
Is worth heading home a little later
I told him it's not in the plans
Anytime soon. I'm just not lonely enough to satiate pigeon boredom.
He knows better. We often sit up here and watch the girls walk by
Far below, mere dots in office attire
He usually asks me to turn up the radio
So he can coo and croon along
And to turn it off when it's time for the news.
Could've guessed this weather or your baseball team lost AGAIN,
He clucks in exasperation.
I realized long ago the bird wanted to stay ignorant of the larger world
Around him, keeping to his safe space several floors removed
From the ugliest acts of humanity.
Yes, those things keep me up at night, too.
Which is why I prefer to take my lunch
With a snarky, disagreeable pigeon
Who proves me wrong every time
About friendship and my frequent Friday choice of egg salad on rye.
So, long, he'll say. The sun's too hot for doing much except burning your legs.
As I climb back in through the window,
I toss a crust to a grateful, blank face.
It's time to go back down to the garden.
Scheme | ABCDDEEAFGHIJIKFLMNOPNQRINSTUVEWXYZ1 E2 IBS3 E |
---|---|
Poetic Form | |
Metre | 111101 10011 1001101 1101 010010010 10100010010 1101111 110101 111011010 101 1111010 10101101011 101010 1101 111101 100110011110 1111111 1101101000010100110 10110110 1111111001 001100110 1110101010 11111001 1011111001111010 1110110111010111 10111010010 1100011111010 11110101 01111111101 00111011111101 110010 11010101101110010101 01110111110101 10100110100 111111111 1111011111 101010010 11111001 01100110101111011 111101111101011011 111101010 1101101011 1111111010 |
Closest metre | Iambic pentameter |
Characters | 1,684 |
Words | 325 |
Sentences | 14 |
Stanzas | 1 |
Stanza Lengths | 43 |
Lines Amount | 43 |
Letters per line (avg) | 31 |
Words per line (avg) | 7 |
Letters per stanza (avg) | 1,334 |
Words per stanza (avg) | 313 |
About this poem
A worker in a big city takes his lunch break with an unlikely friend.
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Written on July 14, 2022
Submitted by n0qlt on July 26, 2022
Modified on March 05, 2023
- 1:40 min read
- 60 Views
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