The Swan
Swift the passage of that proud grace,
that awesome wonder of triumph and tragedy
that ravages the tumultuous river of Time,
Cloaked in silken white,
pristine and pure,
velvet soft down masks her sinewy strength,
merciless cruelty, fierce courage,
A juggernaut of lust and power,
inflicting pain, enduring suffering,
majestic in grace,
ravishing in beauty,
fearsome in savagery,
navigating chance currents,
treacheries unforeseen ,
terrors unknown,
In solitude she sails,
a prisoner,
locked within the inevitable flow of Time
that bears her to the sea,
Alone ,
the arch of her neck regal and proud,
she glides on and ever on,
until..........
opening her throat in the glory
of her one and final song ,
she's gone,
vanishing forever
in darkening waters,
descending night.
by Anne Morris
AWE-SOME
by Anne Morris
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AWE-SOME
