A solitary, self-satisfied pigeon
preens her burgeoning flank, lavender pink breast,
contentedly crooning to herself.
She grips the mottled, lichened ridge tiles of
the dark basalt stone terrace,
patiently, scrounging every last morsel.
She plots her next move, surreptitious forager,
twitching head, scanning 270°, furtive explorations,
the Huatoki Stream will offer no easy dinners either.
