November morning <br />and two doves <br />stained yellow <br />by a horizontal shaft of sunlight <br />aimed from ninety million miles away <br />in pigeon-speak might say <br /> <br />that it wasn't chance <br /> <br />and for proof <br />rise from the apex of the roof <br /> <br />but the light had changed <br /> <br />they held their breath <br />but diving deep <br />they soon became aware <br />that not a trace of yellowness was there<br /><br />Stephen Brian Brady<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/in-november-4/
