Pigeons Are Doves - Ghazal - David Pastuszka

Tattered, feet tethered; we pigeons watched

soaring doves.

Every night we dreamed of a world where

we were those doves.

I found you battered, pieces

scattered to the wind

in search of doves.

Feathers long weathered from the

storm, a staple of these halls.

A place for pigeons,

not a place for doves.

But wetter wings shimmer, showing

the better way out.

Glimmers of hope, alluding to doves.

“Lift up your eyes and your heart

will follow,” you sang to me

unfettered, mimicking doves.

“When we make it out,” your promise

rang out forever, “we will make

ourselves doves.”

A new world, we pigeons soar

washed in heavenly light. We create

illusions of doves.

We create until we are real. Until we are

the light washing over the world, over

pigeons and doves.

I created this new world. One where

my name is Aurora. One where

pigeons are doves.

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David Pastuszka is a Junior linguistics and theatre student at UAlbany. This is his third time being published in ARCH, having also had his work appear in both the Spring and Fall 2025 editions. His play "Pigeons Are Doves" was a part of the UAlbany theatre department's Fresh Acts festival.