Pigeons by DS Maolalai

lumbering footfall

like mutton got drunk:

stumbling sideways – clumps

of nothing like other birds

which, when they pitch

for the air-light, sweep

and ascend, sweep and swallow:

the roll and the grace

of a leaf from an oak.

pigeons:

flap wild like a thrown

away newspaper

and suddenly catching height

with a snap of a windsock,

ungainly like knocked over barrels;

less like a flight and more

a slow groaning. less the perfect

grace of wasps and more

the weight of bumblebees.

thumbs

manipulating coins

flashing like trout on the stream.

masts

unfurling sails

and flipping them

to taut

against the wind.

---

“This piece was one that I spent a lot of time tinkering with, but I could never quite get it right. That tends to happen a lot when I try to write poems about birds. I think I go overboard on the imagery without providing enough connecting tissue to make it clear where the metaphor ends and the object begins.”

DS Maolalai (he/him) of Dublin in Ireland, has received eleven nominations for Best of the Net and seven for the Pushcart Prize. His poetry has been released in three collections, most recently “Noble Rot” (Turas Press, 2022). He can be found on Twitter @diarmo1990