I asked the mourning dove
where to find the days left behind.
"In the dew," she replied.
"In the wild grass
on the slope beside the river.
Hurry," she warned. "Winter already whispers."
I asked the vulture
where to find the days left behind.
"In the fire pit," he replied.
"In the ashes
full of hands and faces.
Go slowly," he warned. "They will wait."
I asked the falcon
where to find the days left behind.
"In my nest," she replied.
"I used them
for my children, bald and bottomless.
Go now," she warned. "My talons are teachers."
I asked the gentle mourning dove,
I asked the grim vulture,
but the lesson lay
at the feet of the falcon
in a slurry of time, need, and blood.
May 23
May 23, 2026 at 4:37 PM UTC
I asked the mourning dove
where to find the days left behind.
"In the dew," she replied.
"In the wild grass
on the slope beside the river.
Hurry," she warned. "Winter already whispers."
I asked the vulture
where to find the days left behind.
"In the fire pit," he replied.
"In the ashes
full of hands and faces.
Go slowly," he warned. "They will wait."
I asked the falcon
where to find the days left behind.
"In my nest," she replied.
"I used them
for my children, bald and bottomless.
Go now," she warned. "My talons are teachers."
I asked the gentle mourning dove,
I asked the grim vulture,
but the lesson lay
at the feet of the falcon
in a slurry of time, need, and blood.
