Mourning Doves by Donna Hilbert

Mourning Doves

Because the potted plant
on the back porch needs water,
I come nose to beak
with a brooding dove,
too late to stop the water
pouring from my pitcher.
I flood the nest.

Her mate watches from powerlines.
She moves to a nearby ledge,
leaving the egg alone in the sodden pot.

Throughout the day, I go outside
and see the doves maintaining vigil.

By nightfall, the pair is gone.
I peer into the pot.
Nothing remains of nest or feather.
Not a trace of shell.

*

Donna Hilbert’s latest book is Threnody, from Moon Tide Press. Earlier books include Gravity: New & Selected Poems, Tebot Bach, 2018. She is a monthly contributing writer to the on-line journal Verse-Virtual. Work has appeared in The Los Angeles Times, Braided Way, Chiron Review, Sheila-Na-Gig, Rattle, Zocalo Public Square, ONE ART, and numerous anthologies. Poems have been featured on The Writer’s Almanac and on Lyric Life. She writes and leads private workshops in Southern California, where she makes her home, and during residencies at Write On Door County. Learn more at donnahilbert.com