Collared Doves On Christmas Morning (Poetry)

They sit content together on a twig
outside our window, peaceful, having fed
on seed and suet scattered on the sill.
Light touches them — pale watered sun slow-bled
in narrow rays, picks out their favoured tree —
illuminates them momentarily.

Symbollic? Or a flight of fancy bent
on finding a true meaning to this day.
They pose a while for photographs — serene.
The light moves on. One stirs and flies away —
the other follows — both then lost to view.
Winged spirits captured in a frame or two.