The Dance Each day we begin with a prayerwhich, if we are mindful,lasts until night's shadowsshut our eyes. The prayer contains a bluelonging for peace,a quieting of the secret eddiesthat swirl inside us. It contains the flying stripes of rhythmn,a blending of separate to whole,an interplay of sharp feathers and down,the pure joy of defining shade and scattered light. It contains a whirl of the warm dancethe sun traces across the land,and the delicious dust of activitythat reminds us as we breathe,as we taste it on our tongues,that we are at onewith it all. Mourning Doves This is a poem about mourning doves,the ones that perch on the old TVantenna above the house next door,balancing in the wind,the ones I see from my bedroom window.It's not a poem about love,or loss of love, or theobvious connection to death.One dove flies off.The other sits.Just above, clouds scudthrough the sky, gather,then, like feathers, drift away. Speeding A line of dark geese inch their way against sunsetas you see the strident flash of redfrom a police car behind youspreading in every directionover the car's interiorand your facebecomes wet with frustrated tearsknowing you were movingtoo quickly through lifethrough the spring puddles on the roadthat must have containedsome kind of reflectionperhaps flowers, who knowsor perhaps the slow, unfolding, whiteblossoms of apple treesyou know only this morningmust have been smallwhite buds of dreamsin the new blue dawn. Kathy B. Austin has published in the Writing Path 1 anthology (University of Iowa Press), Nexus Journal of Literature and Art (Wright State University), Flights (Sinclair Community College), Poppy Road Review, Glide (Wright Memorial Public Library), and Mock Turtle Zine. She has received awards from the Iowa Poetry Day Association and the Paul Laurence Dunbar Memorial Competition. Over the years, many of her poems have have been aired on Conrad's Corner, WYSO 91.3. Ms. Austin belongs to the Dharma Center of Dayton where she has led meditations.