WILD SWANS

Stamp River
May 6, 2001

Have you ever seen a swan walking?
One morning, blessing the vicissitudes of a fitful spring,
a dozen swans were clustered
at the river's bend,
most in the water,
some few lumbering still
upon the bank,
furtive and embarrassed
at being thus unusually displayed
as an aging Beauty
caught in disarray.

Then, as if by an inner signal,
heads protuberant and seeking
purchase for their clumsy wide-webbed toes,
splayed precariously
upon the muddy bank,
over the edge each went,
heavy bodies dragged unwillingly behind,
each white bird
plunging, slipping down,
in a flapping-feathered flurry of distress,
the whole flock gliding off,
serene and graceful as a pleasant dream,
the way moments of sudden fleeting grace
fall on our heavy, so encumbered hearts,
transforming past and evolutionary pain
with sweet possibilities
again, and yet
again.