It was a bright and sunny day,
When the skies were cloudless and blue.
It was a bright day with birds flying high.
The flocks were embracing the endless sky.
It was strange that it lay motionless,
On the cold grey tile on the pavement.
A dog watched it from a nearby tree.
There were no flutters of wings to see.
The ivory-white pigeon silently lay,
On its side as the dog came to play.
He lost interest and reluctantly moved away.
Perhaps, he would return on another day.
It was a sunny day in a place called paradise.
Yet, the spirit of that pigeon had flown away.
To fly high in the endless blue celestial sky,
With all those other creatures that fly and die.
The poet looked at this beautiful bird,
He put his emotions and heart into every word.
Why did this pigeon, so white like feathered ivory,
Have its life snuffed out to fly to eternity?
Pigeon or white dove needless to say.
The bird of peace left an olive branch as a closing card with RSVP. The world must respond to words without letters just a coo coo and some feathers.