Odd Dove Out

The dove has more than earned
its frequent flyer points in
excess. Arriving without fail
in the gregarious company
of its cohorts to forage at our
feeders in a flock of a dozen
paired for life with only one, the
thirteenth without a mate. The
lonely dove might prefer its 
single state of existence,
arriving often on its own to
complacently settle on our porch
resigned or perhaps grateful 
for its solitude, resting in the
hug of our home, coddled by
the sun, feet cozied under its
plump belly, dozing serenely
as befits the symbol of peace.