J.S. Westbrook: ‘Dove in a Squall’

Dove in a Squall

Had one imagined them chiseled from marble
or cast in bronze, the dove’s splayed talons might have
grasped at more than straws. Caught in a squall, lured to
that losing gamble

by a lull in the wind they couldn’t make head
or tail of, wings that proved themselves not wholly
unflappable tacked and tumbled to no end,
their tragicomic

choreography a momentary marvel.
As in some classical paradox, approach
after approach came up just short of its perch,
till the bird trailed off

in parabolic resignation, seeking
more private failures and consolatory
skies, where peace were likelier synonymous
with respite or grace.

J.S. Westbrook