Nesting doves announce the morning.
Two of them crammed into
the bird house meant for robins, for blue tits.
Their tails hang over the ledge,
sticks from many-aborted
spiky all around the wooden rim.
The whole house swings with their
weight, exposed to the elements.
Yet none of these hardships matter.
Theyre home, together and know it:
cooing contented tones fill
the morning, while we watch fascinated
learning a lesson in happiness, learning
how little possessions matter.
© Ruth Mark 2005