August Mourning Doves

August mourning doves
Contemplate the coming dawn
An ache swells my throat
Listen—fields of corn grow tall
Under the thin-bladed moon

August sleep is sparse
Mourning doves murmur at dawn
As I lie awake
Hearing the corn ripen slow
Under a notched blade of moon

About John MacKenzie

I'll mumble for ya. Poetry, plus most things quantifiable: science, neuroscience, memory, epistemology, baseball. And so on.
This entry was posted in Poetry, Tanka, Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

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