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Poetry Magnum Opus
FrasMac

Eggs

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FrasMac

Eggs
 

The white dove flew
from our plimsolled feet,
leaving two perfect
white ovals behind,
twigged in the ancient ivy.

The white dove watched
as our curious hands
lifted her embryos up
to the sun, looking for
shadows beyond innocence.

There was one.
The white dove watched
as our footsteps went
on, leaving the young
to the decisions of time.

5/12/18

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badger11

Intriguing, but I'm not progressing to an understanding.

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