Racer
Out on the deep
a pigeon circles our yacht, wearily.
Crash lands onto our masthead,
keeps its grip, bobbing about up there
as the boat rises and falls on the swell.
Flutters down to the deck
after we produce a saucer of bread and milk.
We notice the bird is ringed and imagine
the mounting concern of its trainer.
A hunched companion for an hour or two,
when we come within sight of land
the pigeon perks up.
Rejuvenated, takes to the sky again
and with a dip of its wings
heads for home.
Vivid images, good title. Erm… do you need the first line?
Good point. We could do without it. I put it in to set the scene, to establish that we are far out at sea – although this may be unnecessary as I say later on that we are coming into sight of land.