Mourning Dove
the mourning dove calls
waiting for an answer
she calls again
Her coo is poignant—
at times it seems happy—
sometimes it seems hollow
or pained.
Idly, I wonder
about her mate,
afraid to find his gray feathers
strewn about and he will be gone.
To my relief, his call comes
distant, from the east
and she answers,
echoing certainly.
Spring 2009
afraid to find his gray feathers
strewn about and he will be gone.
To my relief, his call comes
distant, from the east
and she answers,
echoing certainly.
Spring 2009
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