Mourning Dove
Weed for a pillow
she lies,
not exactly waking
not exactly sleeping,
washed up on the morning tide
released from all the secrets she was keeping
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
