Birds & Mothers


Doves flew from unclasped

coop cage-doors like tossed caps

on graduation day.


Fly little birds! Now

you’re free to bungle you’re own

haiku & destinies.


Mothers coo to give

peace a chance, a message men

find unrealistic.


Hawks must kill to live—

perched alone, high on a pole,

he targets to dive-bomb


the waddling mom

fluttering from the windowsill—

& feathers fall


like bouquet petals

on the carpeted floor beneath

her quiet casket.


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