I lay upon the grass one day,
half asleep and dreaming,
poorly of happy things.
A sky of gold and grey.

I glanced, so high above my eye,
a twin-winged solitary,
wailing dove, floating
on a cold tipped sky.

Bare moments, flew my dove;
far above my head.
I’m not ashamed to say,
that bird had earned my love.

Joy: callous, overwhelming,
my white feathered heart.
I was graced, for a moment,
by a joy so very fulfilling.

And then, oh then my bird.
It flew away from sight.
I sobbed, wailed, and sighed,
but my calls were all unheard.

I was tempted to blame thee,
my dove of the open sky.
To leave after what we’d found,
but now I know you’re free.