While you packed

September 8, 1987

I saw two pigeons adjacent our window on a roof, slick heads tucked tight, beaks flat on their billowy breasts, hunkered down side by side against the gusts that whipped and pried up their feathers. The afternoon has gone dark since I returned from the airport, silence has stripped our room and the pigeons have moved - but only once, in unison, to face deeper into the wind.