MOURNING DOVE

She sits alone in the garden
off in the far corner
silent
watching nothing
that I can see...
except me
if I rise from my chair.

She has been there every day
since I found the soft clump
of teal brown feathers
behind the watering can.

She was a frequent visitor
to the fountain in my yard,
but always with him,
who watched
from the fence post
as she frolicked delighted
by her own enthusiasm.

My fountain holds no joy
for her now.
Without him to watch,
She has lost interest
in bathing and in singing.
How do I tell her
I understand her grief?