Prairie Schooner

How and why? how and why? we feral pigeons mourn Only you know what was torn at the end A cloth maybe once both of you could have worn Enchanted scarf, your son made unborn at the end Pictures, the dark-eyed, nothing words could adorn A savage dark-gold unicorn at the end A maddening simoom, a beast with just one horn A single and perfect rose-thorn at the end When the storm came my wing could not shelter you, born mortal as I am, forlorn at the end