The morning belongs to the doves
Published in di-verse-city Anthology 2004 of the Austin International Poetry Festivalhttp://www.aipf.org
The morning belongs to the doves
The day's young sun still a gentle, warm embrace
The doves lift in measured cadence like
the lapping of waves like
a river running rills
The morning belongs to the doves
Strident, bold white-wings
Love-lorn mourning doves
Precious fine-sculpted little Incas
All lifting with a whirring of wings
(Motion made audible)
Their voices silenced by the hour
All time is one & the same
I stand at the window
Lifting this blue cup as I have
Lifted its water countless times
And suddenly my gesture is replicated
Countless times as I have stood here
Quenching countless mouths
All time, one & the same
The image fluttering like dove's wings
This morning belongs to the doves
One lifts clenching a frayed, red string
Blind to the burn between its beak.
At day's end the sun will slide down
Like a heart of white fire
The doves streaking criss-cross the sky
Twixt the evergreen oaks--to haven
The day no longer theirs
But all time, one & the same
8/18/2002
Ingrid Karklins
