The Dove

Yesterday I saw a dove at my windowsill. She, or he, looked so content, contrary to what a bird should be with a human approaching it. In fact, the closer I got to it, the lovelier it’s singing seemed to get, from a soft catlike purr, and as our eyes met, a full pitched song arose from it’s breast. I had not seen a bird that close in years. Then, in waves, it struck me, at how beautiful nature was, and how much I missed it. My natural umbilical cord had become, quite cruelly, ripped, and attached to the machine of modern work and toil.We stared at one another for a while after the song ended. She decided to stay on the stage a while longer, maybe out of pity for this human, in her big human cage.


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