This Old Tree of Mine; On The Wings of a Dove


Do my eyes deceive me or could it really be?

Today Patience has doves on her branches that number to a three.

I cannot see close enough to look for the double rings of Prince or the freckle that marks Penelope.

But there are 3 doves today, and I can only pray.

Pray that my longtime lovers were not the feral cat’s meal a day ago yesterday.

But still the wings of a dove are a sign of hope and are a lovely shade of grey,
and now I have that hope for just another day.

And the irony has not escaped me as I hope and wish and say,
that if my prayer was answered another dove, not my own, lost his mate forever, just the other day.


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