My dove, my perfect one

He sits atop the light pole
And coos all he day long
And when I lay on my bed sick
He sings even louder
I feed him bread each day
And he returns to his home here
Going only from treetop to treetop
And a few circles in the air
He dances by flapping his wings
Rapidly and ascending upward
Then glides through the air and
Back to the light pole
His friend is the mockingbird
Who lives here too
They share the space on the pole
Sometimes, I will look out and
See him sitting beside another dove
And they preen each other’s feathers
If only I was a dove, so sweet
Heartstrings Two, Copyright © 2008 by Library of Congress