The Fifty Cent Tour

Sunday, September 29, 2013

how sweet the sound

within the call
of the mourning dove
there is a low
swooping note
that mimics
the fall of an oak leaf;
a grain of wheat
burrowing into the ground

Rene ~ 2013

For Susie's prompt to Imaginary Garden with Real ToadsThe Secret Life of Bees, and inspired by a quote from the book by Sue Monk Kidd:

“It was the oldest sound there was. Souls flying away.”


9 comments:

  1. This was sweet ... crisp ... real ... fall-like and delicious!

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  2. I will never hear a mourning dove quite the same again. Very nice.

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  3. Beautifully written ~ These notes do remind us of something deeper ~

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  4. Such a wonderful piece...my mother loved to hear mourning doves. She called them rain birds because so often it was the first bird she heard after a rain. Thank you so much for taking part in the challnge.

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  5. Or the mournful whispers of stars as the rest of the universe flies away from us...

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  6. Beautifully evocative writing. There is something in your use of metaphor which reminds me of Emily Dickinson. The emotion is under-stated but incredibly real.

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  7. Simple, yet profound. I love weaving nature into poems - this is perfect.

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  8. Hi Rene, sorry to be a stranger of late. This poem is both charming and subtle, and I like it very much. Your work is a pleasure. Indigo x

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