Waiting for the light to change
from red to green, my eye was caught
by a covey of pigeons perching
on the telephone line overhead.
Thirty-five birds snuggled together
in a line watching all of us trapped
in our vehicles by the vagaries of traffic.
What murmured secrets do they share?
Or perhaps, they’re just
preparing to take aim?
Suddenly, I remember childhood telephone
calls when neighbor-women chattered
endlessly on party lines telling tales,
skewering those not present.