I Channel the Feelings of a Geranium

As lock-down eases, pigeons have been taking liberties, disregarding my guidelines and landing in my window boxes. This behaviour leads to crushed plants and irritation (not photographed). It has also scared away the blue tits. 

So far, in an effort to communicate the rules, my rules, I've resorted to:

• deploying kebab sticks arranged like pikes ranked on the edge of the window box in the 'at charge for horse' position, 
• shouting, 
• hanging a CD of jazz poetry from the bird feeder. 

Using the CD as a means of shiny distraction /disorientation rather than buying purpose-built shiny distractions saved me £12. This action brought enough calm for me to consider responding to a prompt from Jean Atkin as part of a poetry course I'm taking.

So, my fourth and I hope final, effort to deal with the pigeons has been to channel the feelings of a geranium: the one on the right of the photograph below. This geranium shares my thoughts about the importance of boundaries. 

SAID THE GERANIUM TO THE PIGEON

I’m rooted to the spot, boxed up on this ledge

with trailing lobelia and other plants whose names

I’ve been told but have forgetten … and you?

You’re coming onto us like a crash-landing,

all plump mass and feathery undercarriage.

(And those ugly toes, angled like dead twigs!)

Remove your backside from our broken stems!

Lift your fifteen indistinguishable greys from our pinks!

Repent your savaging of shoots, your squashing of leaves!

Be gone! Scram! Piss off from our miniature Eden!