Rock Dove

Sometime in April...that was at the beginning. A rock dove, full body, strong bones. No great mystery on sidewalk or curb--but wait, once in flight, it's back to the time of Odysseus, or Noah--the messenger--another being, moving through the air. Gray city skies, building shadows, where the light never reaches the street. Like Giacometti, in his Swiss valley--a condition of the earth. But here the temperament is more southern--Mediterranean even, 14th and Broadway, downtown. Oakland, yes, all those years, slide open the narrow grate, step out onto the street...

Oh have you seen those lonesome doves
Flyin' from pine to pine
A-mournin' for their own true love
Just like I mourn for mine...