Pigeons

I gaze at the pigeons and envy their luck

As they fly and circle your bed

Row 38, bed number 7

Thats what the Sexton had said

I swallow and keep the lumps in

Marveling as many more join the crowd

What is there for them I wonder?

Are they angels protecting your shroud?

As a woman, a female, I am not allowed

Only to gaze from the doorway where I sit

Looking at the concrete and sand where you lie

There is something in my chest that pricks

We reminisced today of your marvelous nature

When one day a young boy hit your car

You stepped out and embraced him instead

Sensing his anxiety from afar

I envy the sand that touches you

The gardens and winds you must enjoy

I envy those that were with you

As you were laid to rest by a convoy