O at the Edges

Musings on poetry, language, perception, numbers, food, and anything else that slips through the cracks.

Aubade (Inca Dove)

Posted on February 7, 2015 by robert okaji

Aubade (Inca Dove)

Such delicacy
evokes the evolution of hand
and wing, a growth

which reflects all that one
comes to know. Two doves

sit on the fence, cold wind ruffling
their feathers. What brings them
to this place of no

shelter, of wind and rain
and clarity defied? Fingers

often remember what the mind
cannot. Silence
complicates our mornings.

Originally published in The Balcones Review in 1987, I found this in a folder earlier today. Seems I was enthralled with birds back then, too…

54 thoughts on “Aubade (Inca Dove)”

impostorpawn on February 7, 2015 at 10:45 am said:

its beautiful

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- robert okaji on February 7, 2015 at 11:02 am said:
  
  Thank you.
  
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john hauge on February 7, 2015 at 10:48 am said:

yes, you were. a good thing. a lovely piece. as well as the last photo.
i hesitate to mention it reminds of a november morning back in the late 80s. the two week window of second season dove hunting here in california. no, i haven’t hunted in years and we ate what we shot.
dove cacciatore with polenta is pretty darn good.

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- robert okaji on February 7, 2015 at 11:05 am said:
  
  Thanks, John. Cacciatore was certainly an appropriate dish, meaning “hunter” in Italian. I don’t hunt, but have often benefited from those that do.
  
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Robin Dawn Hudechek on February 7, 2015 at 10:48 am said:

Lovely poem! 🙂

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- robert okaji on February 7, 2015 at 11:10 am said:
  
  Thank you, Robin.
  
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zachbissett on February 7, 2015 at 12:26 pm said:

Always odd (and sometimes pleasantly surprising) to stumble on an older piece of writing. Still holds up, this one

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- robert okaji on February 7, 2015 at 1:04 pm said:
  
  Yes, I found a few others that I still like, and even more that won’t see the light of day again. 🙂
  
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  - zachbissett on February 7, 2015 at 1:24 pm said:
    
    Oh yes, always many more of those
    
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A Former Prison Librarian on February 7, 2015 at 12:33 pm said:

I love these words of yours! I have often watched the Mourning Doves that live in this area. They mate for life (much smarter than we are… but that’s another story.) It breaks my heart when one will stay beside its deceased mate crying, mourning for all the world to see. A solitary funeral procession I well imagine.

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- robert okaji on February 7, 2015 at 1:06 pm said:
  
  You are too kind, as always. We can learn much from birds, can’t we?
  
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Poetsmith on February 7, 2015 at 1:08 pm said:

Evocative poem, lovely aubade! 🙂 Iris

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- robert okaji on February 7, 2015 at 1:50 pm said:
  
  Thank you, Iris. Much appreciated.
  
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  - Poetsmith on February 7, 2015 at 1:55 pm said:
    
    Have a good weekend, Robert. 🙂
    
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Cate on February 7, 2015 at 1:59 pm said:

Beautiful. And there is always every reason to be enthralled with birds.:)

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- robert okaji on February 7, 2015 at 2:34 pm said:
  
  Thanks, Cate. Oh, yes, the birds!
  
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barrira on February 7, 2015 at 2:26 pm said:

This was a beautiful read.

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- robert okaji on February 7, 2015 at 2:35 pm said:
  
  You’re very generous. Thank you.
  
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  - barrira on February 7, 2015 at 2:39 pm said:
    
    and I must say you’re too humble 🙂 Reading about birds is just magical..
    
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Ellespeth on February 7, 2015 at 2:44 pm said:

It’s calming, for me, to hear a dove calling in the morning. I like how you’ve broken the lines, here, and the sad undertone of parting.
Ellespeth

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- robert okaji on February 7, 2015 at 4:30 pm said:
  
  Thank you, Ellespeth. Sometimes absence is louder than song.
  
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St Brigid Press on February 7, 2015 at 7:05 pm said:

Wonderful poem. Thank you for sharing it.

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- robert okaji on February 8, 2015 at 3:11 pm said:
  
  Thank you, Emily. Always happy to share.
  
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Gunslinger Poet on February 8, 2015 at 1:57 am said:

Wow, that’s very good. No wonder it was published. Thank you for sharing!

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- robert okaji on February 8, 2015 at 3:11 pm said:
  
  Thanks very much.
  
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Sherrie de Valeria on February 8, 2015 at 5:06 am said:

How your mind work – fascinating! 🙂
Love what you write there.
I love the photo below – is that yours? It looks kind of haunting in some way.

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- robert okaji on February 8, 2015 at 3:15 pm said:
  
  Thank you Sherrie. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t. 🙂 The photo is from morguefile.com.
  
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Sabra Bowers on February 8, 2015 at 8:45 am said:

So interesting…the wing and the hand.

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- robert okaji on February 8, 2015 at 3:16 pm said:
  
  What we were and how we came to be…
  
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  - Sabra Bowers on February 8, 2015 at 5:49 pm said:
    
    Yes!
    
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Talia Hardy on February 8, 2015 at 11:46 am said:

Skilful use of enjambment Robert.

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- robert okaji on February 8, 2015 at 3:25 pm said:
  
  Thank you, Talia.
  
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namesi on February 8, 2015 at 12:03 pm said:

really like this. penetrating poem

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- robert okaji on February 8, 2015 at 3:26 pm said:
  
  You are very kind. Thank you.
  
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Robert M. Weiss on February 8, 2015 at 5:59 pm said:

I hear sounds of the Chinese poets throughout this highly evocative verse.

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- robert okaji on February 8, 2015 at 6:03 pm said:
  
  Yes, sometimes it gets a bit crowded in here. 🙂
  
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Minuscule Moments on February 9, 2015 at 2:43 am said:

Beautiful poem.

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- robert okaji on February 9, 2015 at 11:37 am said:
  
  Thank you.
  
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Peter Kenny on February 9, 2015 at 3:35 am said:

Very nice piece.

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- robert okaji on February 9, 2015 at 11:38 am said:
  
  Thanks very much, Peter.
  
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Jeanne on February 9, 2015 at 1:52 pm said:

Wow! I’ll never look at my hands the same way again.

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- robert okaji on February 9, 2015 at 3:01 pm said:
  
  Thanks, Jeanne. I hope that’s a good thing! 🙂
  
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Joseph Nebus on February 10, 2015 at 12:27 am said:

I like particularly the stretch about fingers remembering, which rings quite true.

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- robert okaji on February 10, 2015 at 4:01 pm said:
  
  Oh, yes. I encounter this whenever I pick up my guitar after an absence from it. Muscle memory is fascinating.
  
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rivieradinah on February 10, 2015 at 5:16 am said:

so lovely. thank you for sharing. i’ve always loved my hands…been fascinated by them. great piece.

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- robert okaji on February 10, 2015 at 4:03 pm said:
  
  Hands are wondrous things – they’re where numbers begin for most of us…
  
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Bonnie Marshall on February 10, 2015 at 4:58 pm said:

I’m thinking, Robert, that in our previous lives poets were birds .,, perhaps nightingales. Smiles.

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- robert okaji on February 10, 2015 at 5:15 pm said:
  
  Nightingales, penguins, vultures…
  
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  - Bonnie Marshall on February 10, 2015 at 8:45 pm said:
    
    laughing…absolutely
    
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  - robert okaji on February 10, 2015 at 9:04 pm said:
    
    I’m sure I would have been an awkward, flightless bird.
    
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EyeRaLunar on February 13, 2015 at 5:45 pm said:

Layers of beauty and depth, patterns, connections — reminds me of the connection between the parrot and the squid — the squid flying in the water like a bird in the sky… but it’s not just that: they share similar beaks…then it just struck me of how parrots are given cuttlefish bones as a dietary supplement! Ah the wings of my Imagination soar as my fingers fly on the keyboard– thank you for sharing and reminding me of parrot-squid connection.

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- robert okaji on February 13, 2015 at 7:44 pm said:
  
  Yes, so many connections if we just look.
  
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harmonioustew on March 7, 2015 at 3:58 pm said:

The line “Silence complicates our mornings” is a triumph of understatement and could serve as a Zen koan. Another beautiful, vividly perceived poem. Thanks also for liking my latest blog piece.

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- robert okaji on March 8, 2015 at 12:47 pm said:
  
  Thank you, Stew. It’s always a pleasure to visit your blog.
  
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