Pigeon-holes

In the pigeon-holes they abide,
nobody speaks to somebody.
They approach, look at you,
pause a second, at times a half,
verify your identity, inadvertently,
confirm if you're the same one
from yesterday, then pass-by
only to cross again by morrow.
Ants are much better, they greet
each other every time they meet.
Occasionally, a pigeon ends it all,
no sound, no protest nor any call.
condolences are offered, if at all,
much preferred silence, not a gall.