Poem -
killing doves
She wears sorrow
like feathers of the black dove
And beware...to approach her
For she has no love
not of mornings or sunsets or
peoples or towns
Nor of heavens or devils or
planets or stars
She fly,s with black feathers to
kill off her dove, preferring the
crow and they too have no love
Of life
M ~
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Comments
Hello Marion...
Bittersweet...
They're not alone either...
Sadly, many are there...
Great write as always...
Thank you for sharing...
sparrowsong
Thanks love x
Sad write. Life can be a bludgeoning experience.
Like that word John...bludgeoning...
very apt...thankyou x
This is so beautiful in the phrasing and leads me to wonder on the inspiration and the meanings, the wonderings a gift.
Hello Mark...I did love your visits and wish you would write here again. Nothing out of the ordinary in the inspiration just depression really. Please write us on here, your poems are so beautiful. X
the inspiration may be "common" depression, but the poem is not.
it's not fair to say that your poems get better and better as you continue to write because the earlier stand tall on their own.
im so very impressed by your prodigious talent I look forward to each new one