top of page
Dove Eggs
All summer they lay
abandoned in their house of twigs
as hopeful days winked on and off
and winter’s icy clock wound on to spring
two alabaster dove eggs like art deco ornaments
their unclaimed futures in the pawn shop
of our window sill
And then one day the following April
as down in the garden
pink and pastel faces opened
smiling at the blackbirds’ songs
a pair of blue-gray parents settled down
upon the eggs, cooing instinctual expectations of tomorrow
perhaps retirement later to a Santa Barbara apartment
visited by grandchildren on holidays
And suddenly we noticed there were now four
pearly white inhabitants of the nest
and as we watched mother and father come and go
take turns to sit on one dream following another
we wondered how the coming weeks and months
would treat this family’s best intentions
chicks now proudly flapping wings
who’ll soon go off to college
study, graduate in medicine or law
marry, go to church on Sundays
Or lie there cold and unborn – unexplainably
as fortune throws another pair of dice
© Johnmichael Simon
2014
.
bottom of page