Wow! I've got 5 followers! Believe me, I'm excited!!! 8-)
Now for my newest poem:
GRAIL QUEST
38 years
he sought her
his lost dove
the one with weak wings
the one would could not fly well.
At dusk his round calls
circled on winds
stirred by desire
and meek hope
But once he found her
what was to be done?
An obituary would have been simpler.
He holds her in his cupped palms
repeating well-rehearsed coos.
She cannot perch there forever
teetering upon his open hands,
mincing toward the tips of his fingers.
He wavers between
clutching her tightly to his own feathered breast
or tossing her back to that
vast and empty sky.
No comments:
Post a Comment