Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
renee-s-lPoems
The Red Doves, They seem to fly near, now. They are more friendly. Maybe, They have even become my friends. I can feel my shoulders, when they are near. Those sticks, only hold my head, now. Bones, muscles and flesh. When my tiny Red friends were not near those winter months, The Alamo window seemed lonely. Blank and deep stares. Nothing. Impassive stares. Time seemed to not move then. I don't notice it now. Without them, I do. The Red Doves, they make me feel joyful maybe even youthful, now. I worry for the winter months, they'll leave me like the rest, they'll leave. They'll leave and those sticks become rusted, they'll hurt. Salt roses bloom at the thought. I wish never that The Red Doves leave me.
0
Apr 21, 2011
Apr 21, 2011 at 7:40 PM UTC
The Red Doves.
The Red Doves, They seem to fly near, now. They are more friendly. Maybe, They have even become my friends. I can feel my shoulders, when they are near. Those sticks, only hold my head, now. Bones, muscles and flesh. When my tiny Red friends were not near those winter months, The Alamo window seemed lonely. Blank and deep stares. Nothing. Impassive stares. Time seemed to not move then. I don't notice it now. Without them, I do. The Red Doves, they make me feel joyful maybe even youthful, now. I worry for the winter months, they'll leave me like the rest, they'll leave. They'll leave and those sticks become rusted, they'll hurt. Salt roses bloom at the thought. I wish never that The Red Doves leave me.
Written by
renee-s-l
Apr 21, 2011
Apr 21, 2011 at 7:40 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem