Zelda Cahill-Patten

PiGEON SPIKES

in this city
the pigeons are all Huma birds
a fabled flock
perpetually in flight
in the skyglow above streetlamp
& lighted window
their throats gorgeous
with mosaics
of patina & amethyst
they circle
the barbed rooftops
that glitter with quills
sharpened
on the whetstone of the moon

once
it was said
if you saw a Huma’s shadow
you were blessed
but now they never trail
their silhouettes
fearing
snagging

Note: The Huma is a bird from Iranian folklore, said never to alight upon the earth.

Zelda Cahill-Patten’s poems have appeared in journals such as Magma, IS&T and The North, and are forthcoming in a Yaffle’s Nest anthology. She was runner-up in the Poetry Business’ 2024 New Poets Prize, judged by Holly Hopkins. She is currently working on a pamphlet of urban nature writing, exploring nonhuman life in cities.

Zelda wrote this about ‘pigeon spikes’:

A little while ago, I was intrigued by stories of birds building their nests out of anti-roosting spikes, creating homes from the very devices designed to chase them away. Here, I reimagined this resilience through the mythical Huma bird, which is described in Sufi poetry as staying endlessly in flight — in my poem, this became a fantastical response to an inhospitable environment. The form is meant to resemble the barbs and quills that the poem describes, visually recalling its surreal cityscape.