A shadow falls
on the garden wall
there’s a strum of singing strings
and through the mist of shade and sound
a dove with folded wings
As in a dream
the white bird seems
an old remembered melody
perched there so still
on the garden wall
a strange white feathered song
In shadowed light
a sweet time past
within the heart may fall
Such fragile things
spark memory
a wisp of sound
a haunting song
a feathered dream with folded wings
on a sequestered wall
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