By Thomas Page

I am student teaching a senior level class in Washington, DC. They have to write some poems on these prompts. I decided to try all 30 of them. However, I will not say what the prompt was but what its number was.



It flew above us all

White as a cloud

And holding an olive branch

In its beak carefully

And made its way back to the gopherwood

Soaked by the deluge

Transfixed by the refracted light

Above us all.


Into the water I went

From the high board

Into the chlorine’d water

Below them all.

I felt the water break along my skin

Like the sting of a hornet

As I decelerated into the water

Below them all.

One thought on ““Dove”

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