Monday, January 16, 2017

The Dove by Michael Keshigian

Approaching dusk breaks his heart,
the rising moon represents nothing more
than a source of inactivity,
because, of course, he loves the dawn,
the noisy, cacophonous conversations of birds,
bugs, and bees in buds, forging him forward 
in his khaki shorts and sleeveless attire
to sit in the park with bottled water
and celebrate how good life has been.
But the moment has arrived,
his levels of attainment have climaxed
and his sense of contentment
has been distracted by a dove 
perched on the bench alongside,
a handsome specimen with dark eyes
and snow white down, 
though its tail feathers streaked 
rainbow colors to which he inferred 
that the fowl had flown from paradise
to become his guide through a beautiful death,
navigating dark shadows and pungent fumes 
toward a place where blue walls 
radiate a continuous light 
behind the black sheet stars attempt to obscure,
where he will sit upon a stool of sunshine
and this messenger muse will explain all,
reinforcing the significance of his presence,
how his efforts will influence
rather than evaporate in a toxic doom
the sciences foresee,
that the heavens will not collapse,
that he was not born by chance
to occupy a temporary space
in a cryptic, accidental place.

Michael Keshigian’s published poetry collections include:  InexplicableBeyondDark Edges, Eagle’s PerchWildflowersJazz Face, Warm Summer Memories, Silent Poems, Seeking Solace, Dwindling Knight, and Translucent View. He is a 6-time Pushcart Prize and 2-time Best Of The Net nominee. (

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