A crippled dove is dying; her wound a dusky red in the maple's crook she's hiding. Her heart her wedding song; herself the newlywed.
A carmine blaze upon her breast to mark the place she's bled like a penitent confiding A crippled dove is dying; her wound a dusky red
The purple splay of sunset now reveals a fraying thread in her tiny breast subsiding-- her heart her wedding song; herself the newlywed.
Beneath her injured wing, she hides her tawny head as the sun is lower gliding a crippled dove is dying; her wound a dusky red.
The summer grass, soon bereft, would take her place instead except for circumstance dividing-- her heart her wedding song; herself the newlywed.
The presiding night has finished; the ceremony said-- her new master toward the threshold swiftly striding. A crippled dove is dying; her wound a dusky red-- her heart her wedding song; herself the newlywed.