Twelve Swans

TWELVE SWANS

I'm swimming across the bay when -
Twelve swans fly by, low, overhead.
I hear them before I see them.
Long necks stretching forward, white.
One peels off from the rest
and wheels back towards the harbour.
The rest circle the bay.
Everything is shades of grey, with just
The tiniest hint of pale blue.
The water is clear, and calm.
Dark clouds inland heralding rain to come.
That one white swan, peeling away,
Flying low, low to the water.
And eleven swans
Circling the bay.



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