Twelve Swans Encore

Early morning, low tide.

Everything is pale grey and white.

The car park at the cove is full,

So I park at the harbour.

The swans are all gathered

where the river enters the harbour.

The dog and I walk round to the cove.

The sea is full of people.

Some wading in up to their waists,

the serious swimmers in wetsuits further out.

After my swim

(and the dog's wandered off again),

as I'm getting dressed,

twelve swans appear,

coming from the harbour,

Swimming together, slowly, dignified.

Long necks craning, as if astonished

at the heads bobbing about,

colourful swim caps,

Bright orange swim buoys.