A Death Called Dove

“What a short time I had been given to experience love. I felt as my life had only recently begun and now it would surely end at sunrise.”
Meredith Taylor
sweetesttootsieroll
Found then a little dove cowering in the birth of new
A blade came near and scant to miss
only a hairs breath relinquishing bliss
Flying before her time with wind both a friend and foe
Thinking to see, her wings grow tired
Blind fear rushes never more inspired
A shy grasp at what becomes a mysterious fateful lore
Trying but giving away the hidden life
Reduced to nothing and shut in by strife
Again the hungry clock stood its watch over gentle dove
Only to alight were she would never to fly
Wings fail to carry her to comforting sky
Talented feathery quills of reaching passion stoned to silence
Will giving her gifts to the clouds that call
Only create little pieces in the memory of all
Just dreams of doves laying torn in dawns fading embrace
O fragile dove you’ll ne’er see forever pain

Walking in silence ’cause your wings are maimed

Also published in Broowaha Citizen’s Magazine
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