Today: the pigeon, 
stepping through the dirty crust of leaves. 
His eye is looking a little worse, 

a little bugged-out, dream-bitten—
he calls Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! 
with every step, coughing joy. 

	See him fix his eye: 
	there is reason here, if buried. 
	Winter’s energy is rare, 

	so be gracious when it isn’t due 
	but also isn’t wasted. 

The pigeon exits, picks his way 
among a gleaming crop of scattered gummy bears, 
and above, in the bare-knuckled tree 

the shredded plastic bag 
flaps madly in the light-shot wind, 
transmitting its message to the sun.

Nina Lindsay

is a previous contributor to KYSO Flash and the author of two collections of poetry from Sixteen Rivers Press: Because (2016) and Today’s Special Dish. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in Barrow Street, Kenyon Review, Ploughshares, Poetry International, Prairie Schooner, Mudlark, New World Writing, Third Coast, and other journals.

More on the Web: By, About, and Beyond

⚡ Two Poems, “Three Ideas About Time” and “Number 11,” in Serving House Journal (Issue 13, Fall 2015)

⚡ Four years left on earth, 1128-word “flash poem” in Mudlark (Poster No. 69, July 2012)

⚡ Five “Mistranslation” Poems in New World Writing (17 October 2011): “Imposter,” “Opening shift at the bakery,” “A civil servant attends the Mayor’s Mandatory All City Staff Meeting,” “Squat,” and “Winter’s coming”