Coo, coo, Coo, Cyou…

I hear, monotonously, this late afternoon,
In Arizona’s passing summer, from ‘our’ mate-slain
Female dove, by our cats’ claws, and teeth. A yellow leaf,
Just now fell from the tree above, as I sit on the picnic table
Out back. A few minutes earlier, one came careening
from behind me, just missing my head!

Coo, Coo, coo, cyou…

The sprinkler’s on, since the Monsoon has
Slacked off this last week. The sun is down,
But, the air is still lit, I suppose, with ambiance,
And melancholy. It feels ‘fading’, yet, not faded.
Just right, in fact, for the moments passing. And,
The sound of the lonely dove’s long summer lament.

Cyou? Coo, coo, coo…

The garden’s wild, this year, it lacked passions energy,
And ambition. It flourished, no doubt about that!
But, it needed attention, and thinning, it grew with
Abandon, as it grew … separate from each other. Drought
Will do that, you know, bring oddities of blooming
To obscure season’s more peaceful alignments.

Coo, Coo, cyou, coo…

The soft, silky licks of season-changing breezes
Caress my arms, seeming worried for my future,
As if they know, I hate the sterile cold of winter-to-come.
I almost shiver, but, instead, welcome absolution,
Bitter though it leaves me, and relish summer’s ending,
As I listen to ‘my’ dove forever cry

Coo, coo, cyuo, coo…

Erin Elizabeth Kelly-Moen
© Copyright 9/6/06