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?