A disperse of feathers spiralled to the carpet
as the pigeon flew from one side
of the living room to the other, trying to find an exit.
To the bookcase, to the mirror,
to the picture frame, failing to find the gap
in the window from whence it came.
No blanket we threw or bin bag we swept
could swallow the bird, beating fast
as the shadows closed upon it’s head.
out from beneath
And so we began to eliminate the light.
Switch off the lamp, the computer screen,
cloak the mirror, kill the television.
Allow only sunlight to spread through,
to runway the carpet to the window.
Shut the door.
The muffled applause of fluttering wings
grew distant as the pigeon was drawn to the afternoon sun
and the warmth that came with it.
I’m not quite sure what cage has captured you,
or what trouble has shrouded your mind,
but I’ve seen sometimes it’s only in the darkness
that we can see the guiding light.