Philip Kobylarz, Pacifica, Photograph
THE DOVE AND I
After the first night, when morning came,
I watched a gray-winged mourning dove
wallow in its stone bath,
while its mate sat at the edge,
feeling the other’s every splash.
You weren’t awake yet.
But sleeping is like bathing.
A bed is another kind of tub.
After the first night, after one third
of the world’s turning,
and the light came,
the dove and man looked on,
observing and appreciating.
The bird made that typical cooing sound.
It worked for me as well.
__________
John Grey
Review by Jared Pearce
Poems where the speaker finds parallels in nature are, for me, engaging, and this poem is clear, accurate, and it’s honesty is disarming and fun.