Deep-throated wails of twin turtle doves,
turned one against the other, slice
peaceable pre-dawn hours and
send me soaring back again
to the lovebirds we were.
Like fattened fowl outside my window,
so satisfied we forgot what it was
to live without, we carelessly flung
caution to the wind and pecked,
pecked away at precious love.
Tranquility shattered with each show
of hostility; love lay battered, marked
by a lonely grave. Feathers fly,
fall fast and find their place
here on common ground.
Just as life during the pandemic was color-coded with different hues representing different levels of danger, life in its aftermath has become shaded in similar ways. As a self-styled “Seeker of Beauty with Beauty,” (borrowing from a quote by W.E.B.