Wellfleet

by Jennifer Browne


It may have been the first time 
you saw a pigeon, iridescing
in afternoon light, saw it 
shimmering purple, its allure. 
How do we miss this shining 
around us? How can we curse 
it for being underfoot, asking 
for a scrap of our attention? 


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Jennifer Browne (she/her) falls in love easily with other people's dogs. Her poems are forthcoming or have recently appeared in the Poem for Cleveland anthology, South Broadway Ghost Society; One Art: A Journal of Poetry, One Sentence Poems, Right Hand Pointing, Trailer Park Quarterly, and tiny wren lit.