Beyond these perfect walls
lies a cabin of doves
Contained by their feet
bound together by wires

They sleep in a drawer
but never grow tired
Their bones wither in the sun
Their minds burn red in the night

They are lost in the shape of their frame

Although they don’t speak
Their voices scream like sirens
They fall down with the rain
and anchor in the eyes of the trees

Sometimes they stare at you
like the morning tends to do

They act out in frustration
Methods of evil ring like bells
They caress the end of the rail
and grow weak at the knees

Stumbling to the ground
they supersede granite with gold

As the moon rises high
they return to their cage
Nestled deep within their shame
their lives give way
as a pearl replaces the day.

Copywright 2008 - Samm Bahman