Pigeon Man

I have always wondered what it is like
to sit on brick throug sun, sleet, and snow
As the pigeon man does
His browned dreadlocks cascading down his back
Caring for those no else cares about
He feeds with seed the 'dirty city pigeons'
That pecks crumbs of wisdom fro his open course hands
Amongst the hustle and bustle of technolgy
Cars honking horns at people immersed in cell phone conversation around him
No one pays attention to the suburbanized piegons in their path
Many that do pause to kick at them
But I stop and sit next to those others shun
I could venture down the street and trade a wad of bills and brain cells
For some hits and forget it all
But today I feel like remembering
I will glean seeds of thought from the pigeon man
I'll learn what it is like to the save the life of crippled birds
And the value to be found in sitting amongst
An I will ask the pigeons what it is like to search the soul of man and find beauty