The Doves — A Poem

Dove close.png

— C.Birde, 3/18

 

They lift on wings

that creak and sing

in equal parts.

Harmony of fear

trapped in

slender throats.

Unease released

upon still

morning air.

Broken,

shattered,

that fragile peace.

Accident of time,

language,

species.

 

 

— C.Birde, 3/18

 

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