Sunday, June 22, 2025

The Doves of Summer Valentine

The sounds they make
Don't look like they
Would come from
Such sleek bodies
Elegant and yet
Their wings creak
Taking off suspended 
As in the old paintings
More speech than song a sigh
Undeniably sorrowful
And yet comforting
To sit here listening
You who are they call
A warning and a lullaby 

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