Organic cotton

The sheets are green, and clean as they are new.
They've traveled a long distance for me to soil them.
With my dirty feet and sweaty hands.
Eventually I will sleep, and the sheets will have served me well.
New place, new bed, new sheets, same questions.
I was just about to get out of bed...

And the birds outside my window make the usual noises -

"Where have you migrated from?", a lark asks.
Another is busy trying to eat the threads from a mop.

"And what do you do?", asks another bird.
"What kind of yarn do you spin?"

"Well,. I don't actually know how to spin yarn,. But my sheets are organic cotton." I replied.

"I see", said the bird. "Tell me more..."
Meanwhile, his companion is still pecking at the mop.

"Why did you come here? Who do you know?", the same impersonal interview that I had been put through over a hundred times in the first three weeks that I've been here.

"I have made my way into a new land, much like yourself.
Except, I'm not sure how to migrate home. Is that what you call it?" I said.

"The wind is our best friend, it carries us through the day
when we need to go back home. It does most of the work for us", the bird responded.
"But we don't stay at any place for too long, as the wind will carry on
without us if we begin to settle in. It's a pretty easy life really. The wind
provides nearly everything for us, so we can spend the remainder of our
days bathing in the fountains and singing songs. We barely have to do
anything that we don't want."

"Sounds nice..", I responded.

"Yup. Well, nice meeting you. Good luck at the... uhm, gotta go." The one lark said.

They made a loud chirp-cheep-doodle in unison, fluttered their wings and took to the sky.

It was quickly approaching night time...

I started falling asleep, and just as I began to drift away to the dreamworld, I heard a loud hooooOOOTTT HOOT come from my window. I rose my head to look - it was a snowy owl.

"HOOT, It's HOT here!", he said while fluttering his wings.
"Which way is it to Alaska?"

Apparently, a tourist...

"North is that way", I pointed. He turned his head all the way around.
"And then you need to head west towards the Pacific." I said.

He was so white, that the moonshine reflected off of his body and lit up my room.

"Oh thanks! It's so hot here, that I've lost my ability to sense the wintry currents that help me find my way back to the snowy lands of the north", the owl said, shuffling his feet back and forth on my window sill.

"Why are you here if you don't mind me asking", I responded.

"I came down to visit my cousin, the Great Horned Owl in Virginia! He is the wisest of all birds, and I came here to finish learning how to become a wise owl myself. I just got a little lost on my journey back home. "

I told him that I was here for a similar reason. Except, I wasn't sure if I should have gone into as much detail as I did. I always volunteer too much information to strangers.

"It's not a problem, we all get a little lost sometimes. And sometimes we get homeless", I said.

He told me, "I've never once met a pigeon who had a home. They wander the city streets looking for food, almost aimlessly. I often tried to ask pigeons for directions when I was lost in the great cities of the Midwest, but most of them were not able to offer any help. Some just didn't know how to communicate in bird speech, but most said that they were too busy to help and went back to pecking at the ground. They would walk around, and try to find anything that was digestible, not knowing how to hunt for themselves. I'm so happy that I have a nice home in the woods where I never have to rely on the trash of humans for my food."

The owl told me that he was homesick, and tired of eating the small mice that run in and around the garbage cans in the alleys. He couldn't wait to get home and find a fat juicy rat to munch on.
I showed him a map, and we took a few minutes trying to figure out what would be the best way to get home. He told me that he was a really fast flier, and wasn't too concerned about getting lost again if he could take a couple of minutes looking at a map. After scanning the map for a couple of minutes, he thanked me for my help. I told him I was happy to be able to offer my assistance. The owl told me that after visiting his cousin, he realized that he was even more confused about what it meant to be wise. He also told me that if I make it up to Alaska again, I should look him up if I ever need directions home.

After wishing each other luck, the owl parted into the night. When he flapped his wings, there was a loud WOOSH WOOSH WOOOOSH, from beating the air. You could see his white wings float through the air towards the moon. He continued until all that was visible was a white dot against the backdrop of the black sky. Eventually, he disappeared completely and I went back to my bed. I closed my eyes and saw blackness. I thought of the snowy owl flying through the night sky, and wondered how long it would take for him to fly back home. I wished that I could have flown with him across the country. But I couldn't because I had to go to work the next day.

The next day I woke up, semi-rested. I hit the snooze button two times, which is average for me. I turned on my radio and listened to a piano song. Some birds right outside my window were singing along with it. I almost decided to just stay home and not go to work so I could play guitar and sing with them, but when you're a grown up you have put these things aside sometimes.

I rode my bike to the store and locked it up against a big metal post. The manager was late again, so the door was locked. Since I hadn't eaten any breakfast, I decided to get a coffee and something small to eat.

I bought an egg sandwich and a coffee from a street vendor and sat on the sidewalk curb waiting for the boss to show up. I noticed that a pigeon was pecking at the ground around a garbage can. He would hobble a little bit, and peck, hobble, peck, and so forth. He was able to smell my food, and turned around to look at me for a moment and then went back to pecking at the ground. At first, I was a little unsure about offering him some of my sandwich, but I remembered what the owl had said to me the night before. Being homeless is a tough life.

I pinched off a little piece of the bun and held it out. The pigeon quickly looked over, but was hesitant to come over. I waved my hand a couple of times and then flicked the bread on the ground. He slowly hobbled over, picked it up with his beak and quickly walked away. The pigeon finished the morsel and then hobbled back over to me. He didn't say anything, only stared. Then he pecked at the ground.

"Here, have the rest", I offered the last piece of bread to him and dropped it on the ground near me.

"Do you have a home?" I asked.

He quickly ate the food, without saying anything.

"Do you have any friends?"

"Friends?! FRIENDS?" the pigeon responded. "What do you think? I'm a pigeon! Who wants to be my friend? The alley cats have it just as hard, but they won't even be my friend. They'll be nice at first, then try to eat me!"

"Wow, that's not very pleasant", I said. "I know how it feels though,. Well kind of."

"This city is a tough place. It's not easy to be homeless and make it" the pigeon said. "I wish I could leave, but I know I wouldn't make it out in the woods. People yell at me, and tell me to get a job. What am I supposed to do?! There's no more need for carrier pigeons, so we all just roam around the streets looking for food."

I thought for a minute about how I could help. I knew that it would be unpractical to encourage him to seek refuge in the woods after having lived in the city for so long.

"What if you delivered food?" I suggested. I thought about my courier friends back home who had to find new jobs when email put bike messengers out of work.

"What do you mean? How would I do that?" the pigeon asked.

"Well, what if you approached the bakery over there and tell them that you could deliver cookies, pastries and sandwiches to customers who ordered them. And you'd be faster than anyone else because you can fly over the streets. This way, you'd have a job and you'd be able to eat for free."

"Hmm.. Well I haven't delivered anything in a long time, but I think I could get my wings back if I tried. And I wouldn't have to travel very far, or carry anything too heavy. That's a great idea! I'll go talk to the baker right now!"

The pigeon hooted, puffed out his chest, held up his head and walked across the street. He thanked me for the food and the job idea and flew away.

My boss finally showed up and unlocked the door. And as usual, when he's late he asks me to do everything in a tone that implies that I'm the one who messed up. So, I shuffle the bikes around, restock the shelves and put on my work t-shirt. I began to sweep the concrete floor, moving the broom back and forth - swish swoosh swish. I thought about the way the pigeon had been pecking at the ground for food. I raised my head to look out the window and saw a mother walking by, holding the hand of her child. Except, it wasn't a person, it was a hen and chick. A man in a suit passed by, but it was a hawk. Then another man in a suit walked by, he was a vulture. The sidewalks were filled with human sized doves, eagles, peacocks, flamingos, chickens, penguins, geese and seagulls. There was an albatross with headphones on, riding a skateboard down the street with his wings stretched out. And a duck at a newspaper stand, quacking about the latest headlines. And a parrot walking out of the coffee shop. I looked at my boss and saw an ostrich. I looked at the floor and just kept sweeping. Or pecking. Whichever you'd like to call it.