Friday, September 5, 2008

Black

I missed a dove
It fell somewhere
Besides me
Altering its course
And fallen
It became
A moment
Flimsy and faint
Beating wings
As if flight
Was an oversensitivity
I held its tremulous
Waking faults
And soothed it
And smothered it
And its fallen way
Became a memory
To sow
Sad this black

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