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The Dove and the Child.
Saturday, 26 July 2008

The Dove and the Child

A dove
flutters, uncertain, fearful.
There is something in the air; a certain tension.
An anticipation.
Of what, she does not know,
so she
flutters, uncertain, fearful.
What is the meaning,
of a beating heart,
wild, uneven.
Painful.
A throbbing in her head,
stabbing agony,
then a numbness.
Her wingbeats slow slowly,
and she
flutters, uncertain, fearful.
The child appears, with his handful of grain.
He smiles.
Is it really grain?
His smile widens
with a chasm in her mind;
a spasm.
His cold eyes burn into her, as she
flutters, uncertain, fearful.
Recognition hits her belatedly,
like the hard unforgiving asphalt.
Humourless laughter resonates
through her broken, poisoned body, and she
flutters, dying, dead.

1:36 pm