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Rats of the Sky
All I could hear was the sliding of the door as I walked out to my backyard. The subtle sliding and my footsteps startled two pigeons and they evacuated the dirt to a branch. Their screechs pinched my insides forcing a small scream. My lungs erratically pulsating as I cover my chest. My hand covering my throbbing heart and left breast. I see birds (like them) as rats of the sky. There happens to be a particular purpose why. My whole life I've seen them pick and search for meals in the ground. I've hear them coo and screech an ill-favored soundtrack background. I've seen a squab fall from its nest. My dog picked it up like an award for first prize the best. The smoldering parents began to swoop and pick furiously at my dog. A broom began swaying with revenge. The swayer? My mom. She successfully shooed them away. Those pigeons unfortunatly lost a baby that day. I've also seen them starving, stealing, picking at trash. Absent-mindly flying then diving into windshileds avoiding an unfortunate crash. In the midst of a bad mood I recall I hit one it died. You would think an ornithophobe would experience a murderer's pride. An explosion of feathers instantly appeared. When deep in the dark dwellings of my gut dancing was fear. The rats of the sky I don't like them around and here in my backyard I stare at two that I found. One facing North and one facing South. The smaller pigeon picking its mate with its mouth. The pigeon being picked only moved its wing with a tick. The tempo was set to a rhythm of tranquility. I could see that the tree's finger held more than their stability. A sense of trust and love emerged. A striking shock inside me surged. I averted my eyes. Sighed. The rats of the sky I do despise. I looked up again contemplating why. Then blood in my brain begin to tingle watching them pick at each other I began to feel a message that made my present situation real...The rats of the sky tenderly picking one another as if they were carefully stitching a covert blanket, a love cover. As an advocate for perception I discovered something strange. A premontion I hope indeed can be exchanged. A revelation that if I were a pigeon on a branch I'd be alone. Having absolutly no invisable blanket to sew. These rats of the sky still loving and picking. While the seconds of my life are burning and ticking...
