Morning Muses
By Don Iannone

Long wisps of sun sweep buttery light rays
through the summer green leaves
of the white birch trees in the front yard.
A lone dove twitches and preens herself
while singing mournful love songs to a lost mate--
too slow to avoid the powerful clutches of the red-tailed hawk,
who lives fully each day Darwin's code of survival.
The muse within contemplates the ever so fine line between
the sacred great chain of being stretching across the whole of life
and the more obvious food chain of life that does the same.
The sun now paints the yard in broader golden strokes,
more like a dreamy Monet watercolor than any Rembrandt creation.
The muse says Monet saw the sacred great chain
and Rembrandt saw the more practical food chain.
I think the lone dove must see both this morning.