The Mourning Dove

by Star   Feb 2, 2020


The feathers within my palms
were gray, before they rapidly
turned cadmium red.

Their tips slowly frayed,
for I couldn’t stop their
gushing blood.

I tried to exhale the
carbon dioxide left in my lungs,
but the poison seemed to have
already settled within.

Their calls start flooding in;
and I can’t contain
my tears that has tangled
with locked in breaths.

    report violation
2


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Latest Comments

  • 4 years ago

    by Mr. Darcy

    You paint this picture so well, I can almost taste its sadness.
    Nice vivid work. X

    • 4 years ago

      by Star

      Thank you :)

  • 4 years ago

    by prasanna

    I really love the imagery of this poem it goes from 'grayscale' to red, it's dark and super fitting. As a side note, I had a pair of mourning dove birds nest near my house, I'd hear their calls pretty often. That being said, I don't think you need the last comma ('my tears, '), and maybe reword the last verse to 'within locked breaths' or something to that extent. Well done :)

    • 4 years ago

      by Star

      Thank you :)

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