Pouting

a dove who coos without being asked, annoys me
this continuous reverberation
creates a rhythm
and my eyes roll.
the joy with which he calls
slaps me across the face,
he stops as if he knows
and I laugh, recross my legs and continue to rock this chair.

16 thoughts on “Pouting

  1. The definition of relationships in eight lines ~ this is perfect πŸ™‚
    And the dove loves this, for the harder you play to get, the more you encourage him ~ the autumn seems like a pretty good time of year for you, Audacious πŸ™‚ Again, simply perfect πŸ™‚

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  2. I love the soft coos of tne mourning doves that sometimes hang around here. Birdsong rarely bothers me but we’re all intolerant of something or other. I love that mourning doves always travel in pairs and return each year to nest in the same place as the previous year. Your poem made me giggle, especially when you crossed your legs again.

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  3. Miss A., have you tried cooing back with them? I have, and it’s a blast (don’t judge!) It seemed to boggle poor Dallas when they’d coo and I’d coo right back. We could go on for a long time, too!

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  4. I’m pretty sure it isn’t the planned reaction, but I found this kind of funny. We have lots of doves around here. They don’t make a lot of noise, maybe they’re just being polite.

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