The big pigeon settled securely

On a sturdy bough, facing East

In a ray of early sunlight

Filtering through the foliage

Bright and warm.

The bird folded into itself, serenely still.

It sat so for several minutes, unmoving.

And then the local squirrel bolted across

From a neighbouring tree

Shuddering the bird's perch!

Leaping, whirling through the boughs

Like a mad dervish!

 

The quiet bird tolerated the frenzy

For a few minutes

Without a hint of distaste.

And the squirrel never interfered

With that branch as it careened about.

A kind of respect it seemed.

 

But then, the pigeon gave up.

Peace was impossible!

It flew off into another tree close by

With thin branches like a giant fern

Which the squirrel doesn't like.

The ousted  bird adjusted itself again

More open to the sky, sunnier, warmer

Perhaps more satisfactory altogether

For roosting

If less comfortable and private!

And less safe!

Although I'm not sure what enemies

Pigeons must be wary of, from the sky.

 

The pigeon and the squirrel

So minded me of people -

With different social mores

Co-habiting insular communities

With much tolerance.

Or not.

Not everyone can go elsewhere.