An old man sits in the park
feeding the pigeons
They gather to him
just as maggots gather
on the rotting flesh
of something dead
like people who gather to you
when you have something they need
or want

In the end, nature takes its course...

When the food runs out
the pigeons fly away
When the flesh is gone
so are the maggots
And when you have nothing
left to offer
you sit silently
by yourself


by Rima Kane

Other poems of KANE (35)

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