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On A Warm Summer’s Day


The dove flew across the skies on a warm summer’s day,

It could hear nothing but the wind as it peered over the land,

Tranquility nears death and so it was for the dove,

She fell from the skies lacking grace,

Landing on the ground with a thud,

A little boy walked up to the dove,

Kicked it as it laid on the ground,

Pondered his thoughts in a translucent way,

Then slipped the sling-shot back into his pocket.


From over the hill came a call,

His mother’s voice calling him home,

She stood on the porch of a violent homestead,

Where little boys’ nightmares become reality.

Bruise a woman’s body and take her soul,

Force her to bed and tell her she’s lucky,

The fate of man lays in his own hands,

According to the coroner at the city morgue,

Who plucked out the 22. from the man’s skull,

And placed it in the dish that laid on the table.


The long walk home takes it toll,

Just ask the coroner who died of old age,

While sitting on his porch on a warm summer’s day,

Watching the dove he just released.

Submitted: November 11, 2021

© Copyright 2023 Michael Plante. All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments:



That sounds tragic.

Tue, January 4th, 2022 8:54pm


Grim poem. Kinda reminds me of linked events. I like it.

Thu, April 28th, 2022 4:39pm

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