They Owe Her
The mourning doves in my neighborhood are building
a monument to my wife. She is, they know, the one who
provides. She is the source of seeds.
The twenty-one doves know, and honor, her. After all,
in the break-open cold of dawn, this is the place, the
mourning dove restaurant.
The youngest and smallest wait their turn. When the others
have eaten, there is still enough. They know, and they owe
a debt. But Leah, the one who provides:
is she re-paying a debt, too?
The mourning doves in my neighborhood are building
a monument to my wife. She is, they know, the one who
provides. She is the source of seeds.
The twenty-one doves know, and honor, her. After all,
in the break-open cold of dawn, this is the place, the
mourning dove restaurant.
The youngest and smallest wait their turn. When the others
have eaten, there is still enough. They know, and they owe
a debt. But Leah, the one who provides:
is she re-paying a debt, too?
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