Left, right, up and down.
My eyes behind the net.
A pigeon on a windowsill
swivelled toward my hand.
A fist full of rice.
It bobbed, stared at the grains
scattered on the dusty slab.
Left, right, up and down.
My eyes behind the net.
It pecked, tucked one leg in.
Strutted to the water bowl
Dipped its beak.
Blinking and poking its reflection.
My pigeon on a windowsill
A hand. Full of rice.
Wait.
The same stare at the grains
lying on my palm.
Left, right, up and down.
Tilted her head.
One claw came forward
Then another came too
So did my hand
Oh.
Left, right, up and down.
My eyes behind the glass.
Looking at time — 00:00
One hand came forward
Then another came too
The glove removed the collar
and placed it on my hand.
The room blurred
A final flutter.
It was our birthday, Olly.
I turned eighteen.
You remained five.