Hello, Trevor,
I was intrigued by your “Pigeons” title. They’re fascinating birds in their own right, and coincidentally, I’m working on my own pigeon poem—hopefully, it will come together coherently enough for posting sooner or later!
Your observational, almost Attenborough-esque approach has merit, and the details bring the scene to life. If I were to suggest anything, it would be to tighten some areas for sharper immediacy and flow:
Tucked into humanity’s corners,
they coo and squabble,
flutter their gossip,
flee in noisy flight with flashes
of purple and green iridescence.
— "Humanity’s corners" doesn’t quite sit right for me; something more concrete might work better. Also, tightening this opening could enhance its rhythm and immediacy:
They coo, squabble,
and flutter their gossip
in noisy flight with flashes
of purple and iridescent green.
One meanders, retracing his steps,
devoid of sense or destination.
In fact, he treads an attentive orbit,
puff-chested and knight-hooded,
around a slender female.
— There’s a bit of tautology here with ‘meanders’ and ‘devoid of sense or destination,’ which essentially describe the same thing. Also, ‘attentive orbit’ might be an overstatement when just ‘attentive’ would do. Here's a potential trim:
One retraces his steps
with no sense of destination.
He trots by, attentive,
chest puffed and knight-hooded
around a slender female.
A flat, red mess stamped on road,
stray feathers plucked in fury,
a blur of droppings like TV static,
they set their dramas amongst us.
— A small tweak here could smooth out the final stanza while keeping its stark impact:
A flattened red mess on the road,
stray feathers plucked in fury,
blurred droppings like TV static—
they stage their dramas amongst us.
I hope something here is useful to you! Good luck with this, Trevor.
Cheers,
…Alex