The Provinces of Sea Swallows

I knew what my promises had meant

when they were freed from my mouth,

I had wanted substance mixed with light,

and, in flight, I imagined they were arctic terns

that ascended with a spread

of a mermaid's tail, and then circled

dizzy downward to meet you.

I wanted them to dance and fall

as a thrall of of feathers upon you,

but that you would sense their weight too,

when I announced them from the blood red

of my beak. We speak of how we could be better

at living and dying or

how we could be so much better 

at being and loving.

These are the provinces of sea swallows,

my sentences are administrations

of tender tokens of sand eels and pledges

to chase summers of daylight with you. 
 

Image from pixabay.