Morning Dove
Sitting at the pine kitchen table
bathed in morning light
trying to forget . . .
writing to remember . . .
how the wave of your wand went “poof”
all hard edges instantly soft
a loud crash at the kitchen window snaps me out of my
writing reverie
i open the door
perched on the rail i’m greeted
by a bright eyed bird
staring deeply into my eyes
my heart tells me
you’ve been struggling to stay on this side
thoughts of our indelible “family sign”
the one about three birds
flying into our front window
any time we had a family member laid out at the mortuary
bird’s stare entrances
dove tells me you’ve transitioned
tells me you’re OK
tells me not to worry
phone rings . . . John the mortician our family friend
his voice low whispers, “i’m sorry . . .”
morning dove, you told me you still tell me every time i hear coo coo ~ coo coo
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Reading this, I feel a peace in the simple message brought by the dove, and the resolution to accept. For a gentle poem, this has a strong message.
dove tells me you’ve transitioned
tells me you’re OK
tells me not to worry
I understand.