Inca Doves

Inca Doves

 
Is it odd to say I thought of you
as I pulled a dead dove from

the swimming pool? Spine up
to God, floating lightly with

its bright beak face down.
Streams of red outlined

the strange sight. I gently scooped
him up, ignorant of sex, his eyes

closed so gently as if in prayer.
His only mate’s claws licked the fence,

like little tongues, as she watched on.
Wings magnificently stiff and his feet

frayed wide in la petite mort. You came
to mind. His neck was limp

as a cypress flower.
I had to look away

when his head snapped backward
while I laid him in spring grass.

 
 

Part of The Learned Pig’s Clean Unclean editorial season, March-May 2015.

Image credit: J Labrador

 
 

The Learned Pig

Amanda North

Amanda North is a writer and educator based in Texas. She holds a BA from University of Texas at El Paso and an MFA-Poetry from Texas State University. She lectures in the English Department and Honors College at Texas State University. Amanda has poems published or forthcoming in The Open Bar at Tin House, The Learned Pig, and Yew Journal.