Lonesome Dove

They arrive in a flutter of
grey, in a whirl of sound
distinctly their own, the
Mourning Doves who settle
among the seeds of our winter
offering to our winged neighbours.
In devoted pairs they arrive to
settle and gently take their 
place among the cardinals, 
juncos, goldfinches and
chickadees, disturbing none,
and themselves undisturbed by
the presence of busily foraging
squirrels. One dove among the
pairs, alone and apart, sits,
head tucked into fluffed wing
feathers, as though drowsing;
separate, while finding comfort
on chill white winter days,
in the presence of others.
That dove, in its single
existence, remote and pensively
unpaired, stirs compassion in
the observer's heart, a lone and
lonely journey through life.

Cosmic Harmony

God stands, magnificent at his
podium, as the universe of fiery
suns created as directed by
handmaiden Nature, she of the
demure appearance and stormy
temperament given to heeding
divine commands does his bidding.
In his hand the baton of guidance
instructing the chorus of angels' voices
and the archangels assembled with
their quaint otherworldly musical
instruments produce the music
of the spheres, that ineffable melody
gracing the metaphysics of space
and timelessness guiding nature's
elements of planetary distinction
absorbing and retaining and
ordering earth and water, fire and
air to welcome the creatures given
to the goodly habitation and meek
exploitation of their cradle. The
grandly sonorous vibration of the
heavenly strings and horns in
their universal harmony producing
the unity of existence; we hear
and so obviously, therefore, exist.

In Touch

Keeping in touch was as
immediate and natural as breathing
and almost as necessary to maintain
our lives, for when we were young
friends and lovers represented
the quality of life, so we squandered
time endlessly, hanging out 
together since being together
epitomized life's juvenile
aspirations to be with, to share,
to experience, to dedicate ourselves
to one another's well-being. That
was then, and now we dedicate
our time to prolonging our lives
at whatever cost, primarily and
carefully counting scant years ahead.
Now, those intimate encounters
seem less driven if more poignant
as one then another melts into the
timelessness of death. Now, we
use social media sites to entertain
and amuse, reach out to touch a
lifeless screen, send good wishes
and fond recollections accompanied
by the black humour of cynical
rib-tickling cartoons of the elderly
coping in an unfamiliar landscape.

Vacuums' Gap

Growing distant from the
callow concerns of impulsive
youth, the id-driven desires of
emerging adulthood, totally oblivious
in the emotional fray of a life
lived, we arrive at a destination
that seemed in retrospect, others'
fate, never our own. Yet it is our
faces too lined with the memory
of laughter and grief, our hair that
has greyed as our bodies change
contours, and so suddenly, it seems,
we are those whom we once
viewed as the frail elderly hardly
worth a second blink of time
or concern. Our eyes, whose sharp
imagery have left their peak
hand the sharpness of vision
to our brains and how they thrive!
Viewing the succession behind us,
absorbed in their puny egos,
clamouring for attention,
scrabbling for gain,
indefensibly cynical, hostile
to the time warp between the
young and the seasoned, who 
sigh in the age-old exasperation
of that timeless combination of
endless waste and early years.

The Hellions

In repose, exhausted after
exhausting our none-to-spare
energy and well-meant patience
they are instantly transformed
from hellish imps, that dynamic
duo, our sibling puppies,
to innocently sweet newcomers
to life's short canine journey
accompanying our own. Their
precocious curiosity has no
discernible bounds, much less
do hopeful distractions detain
them from the serious business
of kleptomaniac destruction. 
Yet it was we who eagerly 
brought them into our inner
sanctum having weighed the
benefits of a neat and tidy life
sans concerns for other creatures'
well-being, finally coming down
decisively on the side of ditching
it all and harnessing ourselves
yet again to the pleasures and
pains of their comedic and
constant companionship.

The New Needy

Who might have imagined
when we were young
carefully buying whole food
groceries, stretching our income
as best we could to feed and
clothe three infants, finding
entertainment and recreation
within ourselves and free-to-access
green public spaces, content to
live with basics now deemed
insufficient in today's world 
of advanced economies where
the basics we might never
have imagined now represent
life's integral needs. Now,
when we shop for our groceries
we have ample means to pay
the basics and beyond. We
avail ourselves with casual
disregard for cost. And among
our weekly targets is a basket
of non-perishable foodstuffs
to be deposited for the local
food bank for those in society
whose needs have grown well
beyond the gentle poverty
in which we once lived.

Angelforms

It's so cold
chimney-smoke dangles
like wash from the sky.

Sparrows scrabble the snow
under our feeder
     claiming rights and
quarreling. I watch them

pantomiming life
priorities of territory
and prestige
      the battle

heating as two males
become a ball of wings
      and claws
        erupting in the air

carrying the struggle
to the snow-lapped ground.
Later, I see

angelforms in the snow.