Morning | A poem
In the morning the doves’ lament
mixes with the hum of distant traffic
and lawnmowers
a conversation bouncing
between the trees
language following the network
of branches and shade, cover
There are hawks in this neighborhood
who also listen
to the deep breasted plea for love
that echoes from those
light hollow bones
while squirrels scratch
along their fence highway
to fuss and chatter
at the cat
