We Have Doves, They Are Called Mourning

*

She sits on the flat rock
in front of the light
that shines on the fountain.
This is where they sat.

*

The day before, the woman
found feathers strewn in the yard.
She assumed it was the result
of a hawk feeding. Her best guess:
the feathers were of a mourning dove.

*

And now in the gathering dusk
the dove sits alone on a rock
near the flowing water.
She honors her name.
She gives her presence 
to one’s absence.

written May 2023