POST 164: MOURNING DOVE, hydrangea, poppies, South Carolina, Maine

by Carol Bass



Just imagine this for a moment:
you were a tender mourning dove
walking in the garden dirt past the pruned hydrangea
from last season
and those dried stalks would be giant tree trunks to you
whose new spring leaves
would shelter you from the sun

are you searching for worms now, looking for other dreams ?

you gracefully trot past
feathery spring poppy leaves
jungle exotic and as soft as your feathers

and when you fly up
to the highest tree top
your wings will squeak like a tiny drum roll
and you will make most people think the noise
came out of your beak

you teaser you