City Pigeon Ballet

In the hush of the city, I discovered a new rhythm—pigeons practicing ballet in the square, each feather a fleeting verse. I watched them, noting that their wingbeats matched the cadence of my own pulse, as if the quiet could be louder than a shout. I paused, pulled out my battered notebook, and scribbled a line that felt both absurd and profound, because even a whisper can echo in an empty room. The inner flame, though invisible, kept my silence alive, and now it flickers in the laughter of the pigeons, reminding me that mystery can be funny if you listen close. #quietpoet #unexpectedcomedy 🕊️