the cool June air bites,
snapping and sucking at my fingertips
like a small child, or animal,
asking to be fed
but it is only Loneliness again,
creeping from behind its April veil
and making itself known to me, again.

i watch a single homing pigeon make tracks over the rooftops
and i wish, that like a homing bird,
i could flit from one rooftop to the next
without pausing to reflect, or dwell
on rooftops gone, and passed -

or have the comforting knowledge that
i was headed to a better place, a home

but i am already there, wings weary
and as the winter months draw near
it feels a stranger to me.

(image by darius k.)