About Cheerio

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In general I am a cheery and energetic person. But I am enshrouded in a cloak of iron. That cloak is the weight of greiving my son, whom I've lost to adoption.

Thursday, November 15, 2012

poem: Through the window

Through the window


I watch two mourning doves
sit in the tree far apart
'tis the cold of winter
it nearly breaks my heart

Would it be too hard for them
to sit upon the same branch
and keep each other warm
perhaps reduce  the draft

My son, not far away
won't turn to look at me
even though we are  perched
both here in this same tree

Hawk circles overhead
as shadow of its wings
pass over the two of us
alone and solitary

The shrill of her call pierces
through the cold and silent air
of her presence and danger
we are well aware

 Must we stay so far apart
as we sit up in this tree?
Which of us will be her prey
My son? No, let it be me.


  1. My heart continues to break for you. For all of you...

    Sending you big hugs and lots of love!

    1. Thank you, Susie ... I'll take any hugs that come my way ... hopefully I can pass a few along to my son - some day?

  2. Oh, Cheerio....sending you hugs, too.

    1. Real Daughter, thank you for stopping by ... for the hugs

  3. Two years ago a pair of mourning doves built a nest on our pergola. It was a dumb place to build a nest, exposed to the elements and that poor mama sat there in the blazing sun day after day. On the morning of July 5th I went outside to see that baby had hatched, I could see his fuzzy little head. I was happy for mama and papa, all their hard work had paid off. On the morning of July 6th, they were all gone, the nest was pretty beaten up, and I knew that one of the hawks that cirlced close by had gotten their sweet chic. This was the most horribly triggering thing I had ever experienced. On July 5th 1989 my son was born, and on July 6th 1989, his adopters took him home. The loss of the mourning dove chic 21 years to the very day was beyond anything I could have comprehended.
    I hope with all my heart, your son is wrapped safely in your arms soon.


    1. heartwrenching story, Denise ... even more heartwrenching how it paralelled your own story {{{hugs}}

  4. While the birth of a child does mean quite a few are happy there will always be someone trying to raise arizona. child theft makes money, war makes money, booze (store owners too lazy to bake bread) makes money. i pray that your sons do not ever suffer the injustice that the unaware praise.