coney island

Three pigeons perched one-legged

on a rusty storefront neon sign

stand motionless.

 

A young daughter shares a chocolate cone with her father

while friends chat fashion in Russian.

Elevator jazz interrupts the soft buzz of casual conversations.

 

Some moments later, Gypsy Kings in lieu of Johnny Coltrane,

the pigeons take off in unison

and the rusty sign, now in motion with the afternoon wind

no longer holds my attention.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

2 thoughts on “coney island

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