Morning Doves She's veiled by the Cobalt, velveteen Curtains And she overheard her Parents, pretending To write apology notes Insincere, And scripted. She heard them Blame their veins, Awash with liquor Or their daughter, 17, Wearing those sleeveless Tops, like this is a clue Laced, And woven in thread. She heard them say They were perched like Mourning doves And she thought they said Morning doves And with faltering breath Asked "Why, If they are Morning doves, Do they cry when they wake in the morning?"
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David Anthony
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