The Two Swans
Two swans glide towards me,
their graceful movement
concealing the fury
of their paddling feet
as they slowly turn together
into the bright sun.
They seem to share
a common will.
The water is glass still.
I stand near to where the bank
falls away into its own image.
I come here often, alone,
trying to quieten the thoughts
no one else can see,
thrashing just below
that face mirrored in the water,
looking up at me.
Copyright © Paul Willason | Year Posted 2022
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