The Ground of Life

I am alone
in my high-back chair, listening,
attending to every sound, the breeze
through fluid curtains
strokes my thinning hair,
whispers poems
into eager ears
of the soft moaning of the dove
who warms her thin eggs
alone in that small place
above our front-porch,
telling me that love
is certain.

poem by Steven Federle
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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