NaPoWriMo 2026 – Day 22/30

It’s 4pm on a grey Autumn day
when the twinkle in my eye starts to say
it’s all them pigeons, I’d bet my pension
I swallow a laugh as I pay attention.

On the screen, behind Churchill, they line
like members of Parliament at Question time.
Gatherin’ round to remember the war,
chests puffed out, cooing at tours.

I listen carefully, drinking my tea 
as the voice in my head narrates the TV.
The pigeons, I agree, are patrons of London,
but that doesn’t mean they’re the guilty ones.

Um, what about the coded messages,
bows and circles as they make their pledges
fueds in the vestiges of Westminister -
could there be anything more sinister.

I wrap up my work as I contemplate 
how pigeons have shaped my homelands fate
is this payback for Trafalgar Square
those years we scattered and chased from there?