Monday, May 8, 2017

Aubade: Mourning-dove




Dawn fires
the cold roses
one-
at-
a-time, 
when, with
planetary urge,
all explode to
vermillion
conflagration.

Then the cherry tree,
plain in
drab leaf,
erupts into
emerald
glory,

and high
from the bright rooftop
the mourning-dove
sings
his low, plaintive
song of 
love.

(15 June 2014)

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