My mother no longer knows I exist. Genetic fate reamed her memory and her pigeons flew the coop.
I remember my cousin Bobby and his rooftop coop, back before TV. I remember being on the roof with him when I was seven, the drone of cooing pigeons, men in the yard below pitching horseshoes and drinking beer, the women in lawn chairs knitting. Bobby released a pigeon and it soared high, circled and came back to roost on his shoulder.
Bobby was my hero. He was eighteen, and he joined the army and went off to fight in the war. When notice came that he’d been killed in combat, his grief-stricken father went up on the roof, released all the pigeons, and tore down the coop.
They circled chaotically for hours, and in the morning they were gone. Just like the light in my mother’s eyes.
[Vindicated in the Blood of the Lamb a, new book of Shards by John Bennett from Bill Roberts’ superb small press (letter press), Bottle of Smoke Press. http://www.bospress.net | Those interested in a hardcover copy, which usually sell out before the publication date, (August 31) please contact the publisher: Bill Roberts, Bottle of Smoke Press, 902 Wilson Drive, Dover, DE 19904 | firstname.lastname@example.org