Fantail Doves
Two Moons Ago
The sky is filled with puffs off white
They fight the wind with all their might
One is taller than all the rest
Determined to do its best
It’s tip reaching for the crest
Like a feather, tickles his breast
From where I sat,
A giggle, I could hear
And see I think, a grin at that
At my back, the sun, low and sinking fast
The balls of puff now barely lit
But brighter than the distant sphere
His time to shine is growing near
The yellow star is sinking still
Darkness at the door, a bird’s song knocks
The wings unseen of graceful flight
Swallows fly into the night
The dove I love, sits, still alone
Atop the tree I still can see
Its love, its mate, is very late
Still she waits and waits
How could I tell her of his fate
For I found him at my feet
And covered him,
With a sheet
Two moons ago I did hate
No one, no thing, but everything
Two doves, I see no more,
But one, who waits and waits and waits
Peter Driskell
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