Tuesday, 6 January 2009

Push and shove

They elbowed at your eyes today. The colours. They made a full blast racket. In your face. 

A mess of melting ice-cream, the sunset drew a purple crowd of push and shove pigeons out to the only ice melt held as a puddle. They cooed and gargled at the peck and splatter of a dark blue mirror that showed their feathers as restless and moody plump clouds. 

Beside them, another pool that they had the wisdom to avoid. It shone, mean. It held no reflection.