Poetic Reblogs

Grey doves flutter
onto rain-soaked sidewalk
to find the man who sits,
rain or shine, on a bench
all alone but for his
pocketful of seeds.
Friends never forget.

One time as we walked through a park in the city we observed a man sitting on a bench. At first it looked like a scene from “The Birds” and he was being attacked by a dozen pigeons. But we could see as we got closer he was feeding them from his pockets.
His appearance was rather seedy as well; one could easily take him for a social outcast. I had to wonder if maybe the birds were his best friends. Seems they found no fault in him.

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