What is the knocking at the door in the night?

...it is the three strange angels
Admit them, admit them.

            D. H. Lawrence
            “Song of a Man Who Has Come Through”

Mourning dove cooing sorrow
on the fence line, one that sings
like no other, tell me: For whom
are you grieving in my doorway tonight?

And you, cardinal, red cleric of the breeze, homilist
from the swaying trees, what are you preaching?
Strutting through this door cut from evening,
is that hellfire and damnation you’re whistling,
or just the redeeming relief of the fall?

Last across the threshold, dear strangely silent
crow—are you someone I’m supposed to know?
Tell me, if you can: In whose handwriting
are all these notes you keep leaving in my empty shoes?