Mourning Doves

... "Love is not love

... which alters when it alteration finds ..." William Shakespeare

All these years later,

murmuring distant warbling throat noises.

Sounds of Long Beach.

I first heard doves near a willow tree.

... "Which room did you have?"

... "Room. We didn't have a room.

... We were children. I was seventeen.

... I rode down on the Cherry Street bus.

... He came from his Navy ship.

... We met at the beach behind the hotel."

Fifty years of dove life. Wings

lifted. Carried in bird bodies. Soared

point to point

twig to moth.

Now, palm trees trimmed. Shoreline altered.

A road runs through the beach.

Off-shore oil island disguiesed with colored lights.

Cooing mourning doves.

Unaltered love waits beneath the roof.

... by Diane Wyland Carle (2005)

Mourning Dove poem is dedicated to Gary Lee Gambs who turned 70 on February 17, 2006.