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Morning Dame
by Maureen GlaudeHere she is again
slow and silent
forager of scattered
sunflower seeds below the feeders,
the mourning dove.
She comes here single, but is she?
Plump as if pregnant,
confident in my presence,
cleaning up the shell clutter
on the lawn
and in the dry womb
of our empty cement pond.
Her chest, rose-tinged
back gray, flecked with a
feathering of brown
Round-eyed,
aware of me,
she circles, struts,
pecks peacefully
committed to her
venue,
this new dame
in the yard
of my domain. 08/30/2006
Posted on 08/30/2006
Copyright © 2024 Maureen Glaude
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Christel Crews on 08/31/06 at 12:24 AM very interesting! you've described the entire scene so vividly and with such care and attention! its beautiful |
| Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 09/01/06 at 02:43 PM Really like the way you've personified a bird in this poem. Mom gets mourning doves too, along with their cousins, the pigeon; all fun to watch. :o) |
| Posted by David R Spellman on 09/02/06 at 02:21 PM You do so well in describing the scene and the feathered dame. I liked the reference to "plump as if pregnant" and soon after "in the dry womb
of our empty cement pond." Also liked "dame... of my domain." Wonderful poetry Maureen! |
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