I Saw a Dove Amongst a Flock of Pigeons

One monochrome March morning

I knew the world was ending.

That morning I saw a dove amongst a flock of pigeons

And strung out angles shuffling slowly through the streets of Minneapolis

Softly singing lullabies for the rabble of St. Paul.

Deep crimson canyons along your arms and legs –

The world was ending — your head Hades; your eyes Olympus.

I saw a dove amongst a flock of pigeons.

Kelcey

She is the frame over which the universe is woven.

The waxing and waning of our lunar satellite —

soft-spoken yet insubordinate.

And our souls will waltz across the auroras,

on top of the angelic peaks

of treacherous mountains,

Down

below

to purified pools of sustainability.