Sings the Evening Swallow

In the moonlit shadows faint and distant images race across the water surface, blue on grey clouds smoky eye the sky with checkmate figures and patterns in the darkness, it is that recognized time and the midnight hour. Etched among the willows sings the evening swallow lost in its shrill and silent interlude that whistles down chasing the wind. Between the firefly lights in the clover fields and the silently stilled pond she sings alone unfrightened hidden safe beneath the thick leaved oak. Drawn up by the wind to explore the vast horizon sings the evening swallow calling softly out into the oncoming darkness unseen, unrecognized, entranced by the permanence and passage of time chasing the fleeting aftermath of days long passed. Like a blind obsession sings the evening swallow calling out in lonesome song who does your crying now.