Cheryl Somers Aubin
and Jonathan Ottke



Jonathan Ottke
Reflections glass
Inspiration piece

A Sign
By Cheryl Somers Aubin

As I look for a sign from my father I wonder…

Will it be a white feather from an angel’s wing
that floats down and I capture in my hand?

Is it the small white porcelain angel I found in
a box I had not opened for 15 years, but
did so yesterday? Is this little angel your sign for me?

Is it the call of the mourning dove that rested
outside my window and cooed, just as I was talking with
Charlie about searching for a sign from you? He thought so.

Or is it the mention of Proust in a literary journal,
and then again, the same day, in a novel. Should I study him now?
Is there a message for me in his words that I need to know?

Will it be the first notes I hear played from America, the Beautiful?
A song you remembered, even after you had lost your memory of me,
and yet we sang together, your voice strong and deep.

This morning, I heard the mourning doves again, and I smiled.
As I write these words I hear them once more. Do you send these doves to me?
Are you with me in my grief? Are you sending me your love? Are you here?


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