The End of the Dove…
He loved as he walked,
And he flew away,
When the roads
Overnight.
I close my eyes, and
I hear his voice, I see his smile,
I taste the smell of his wings,
I sense his pride –When I sang or played.
He’s been around,
He’s been alive.
Yet, for nine years and ten,
It seems, he's never aged...
Photo: © Rob Palmer. Digital modification for P.R. by P.A.
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