WAR Poem: The Morning Dove, by Andrew Garcia

And so it tolled.
Not rhythmic
Nor harmonic.
Glances at stained glass. A room accompanied by the sun.
He cried. We cried.
The sun went away yet the crying had stayed.
The doors are so welcoming. Yet I fear what comes inside. No longer home.
We looked at him all day. He’ll save us.
Yet he stood no place in our actions.
It arrived today. Our very last.
Resting in our hands, the final message.
We cried. He cried.
And so it tolled.

The sun never returned.

Author: poetryfest

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