Valentine's Day
Early morning,
new, deep, snow
sunlit in the Garden,
covering the lonely woods.
Suddenly descending,
a mourning dove flutters,
roosts in the Tree.
There in a mere few moments:
another mourning dove returning,
perching, restless, cooing:
Cold, heedless solitude
sloughed off,
like the needless snow
the doves shake from their feathers.
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