Poem for a Time of Crisis

Poem For A Time Of Crisis
DS Martin

 What is that small feathered thing  
meek & knowing   that survived
in cramped quarters   with all that would
soon be released upon us?

Without fear   she lets me reach
deep into her now-lidless box  
lift her in my hand   & feel
her gentle heart thrumming

Is she kin to the dove   Noah released from
his window    or the first robin of spring?  
Those who have come through storms  
will recognize her plumage  

Like to the lark at break of day   she'll sing  
We have not been left alone   Her belief  
merges with mine   as I fling
her skyward   & watch her take wing  

knowing she'll return with an olive leaf

---

D.S. Martin
Poet & Editor

Photography by Marlow Amick