In the Evening of December

When mourning doves gather in the evening of December

And the summer rains have turned to snow,

They coo a lullaby into the winter wind

That drifts over fields under a moonlit glow.

Towering trees bend in homage,

Spent grass and cattails weave with their song

When mourning doves gather in the evening of December

To welcome a saviour into their throng. 

Jim Zitzelberger is a retired teacher, author and crop farmer