City flock of
pigeons fly
tight circles
around canted
rooftops, a
smoky spiral
of greyblack
wings. A single
white dove spins
with them,
perhaps a
defected Chinese
new-year decoration
or a wedding
wish flown free.
They wheel in
seeming discordant
patterns, cyclical
drafting as leaders
trade places. The
white dove moves
forward for its
turn, leading
colorless cousins
in its own
spatial wanderings.