Are You Mourning, Dove?
Smiling in the street while it thunders,
today is the day I let my mind go,
I turn my cap inside out,
climb up the trees to look below.
Fill my pants with leaves and bark,
my heart fills up with love,
on my arms some feathers grow,
and become a mourning dove,
To coo in ways both sad and glad,
the crowd of people are irrate,
the flashing lights irrelevant,
I must fly and find a mate.
Us mourning doves get lonely,
so I crash into the ground,
bird school taught not how to flap,
now hear the mourning sound.
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