Dove on a wire.

I wanted to shake the world, saying, loudly, "Wake up!"
I thought about the stranger, holed up in that room at home.
A loud shout echoed inside.
I felt so alone, whirling in fear, at the enormity of loneliness.
I stayed quiet because I knew that it was a time to leave that one alone.
I waited, not to disturb another's moment to sort and do.

A light flicker, a flutter, and the sole pale grey dove landed.
It called, in that feather muffled voice they have.
Hello, Dove.
HelLO, dove.
I remembered that I could make a sound quite the same.

I cupped my hands and raised them to my lips, pressing the backs of my thumbs there.
I needed to practice.
I removed the cuff of my coat from the place where my wrists and palms met,
and found that more successful.
Hello, Dove.
HelLO, Dove.
Two times, three time, five times Hello Dove, in a canter, an obvious rhythm, repeated: a song.

We sang for a while, in turn, Dove, Me, Dove, Me... Hello Dove, Hello.
Dove changed the voice, and I, too added a trill, thrilling to know that I heard that change and could
reply. I forgot my loneliness. I remembered the child I was. I think next time I'll try singing in
rounds. I like to speak with the birds.