There's a pigeon in the prayer house
and we're not wearing shoes.
I'm biting my tongue
on a floor of blue carpet,
under a dome painted blue.
The doors to the decks are open
and the sky is turning grey.
It's no wonder then:
a pigeon in the prayer house.
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1 comment:
Thought provoking and it's probably written at 'face value' but I always seem to read between the lines, in those empty spaces that aren't visible.
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