Migration of the Swan
By skinner_jennifer
- 3441 reads
She tips her head upwards
towards the open sky...
the stirring sounds of nature
touching her very senses,
spreading her wings,
pure as Winter snow,
her eyes speak of her
struggle within...
knowing the distance
that perilous journey,
so savage and wild
will take hold of her,
I watch...tracing her flight,
as the tainted sky blackens,
her grace beyond compare,
on and on until she disappears,
like a candle flame extinguished
her presence there is no more.
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Comments
Ah a lot of birds have been
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This is lovely Jen. Really
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this is beautiful Jenny....i
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I too enjoyed this, Jenny.
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I have seen many birds
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Hi Jenny
Hi Jenny
I never knew swans migrated. Lovely poem.
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A very relaxing poem, Jenny.
A very relaxing poem, Jenny. Close your eyes and you are there, in a bouquet of flight, breathing in precious freedom within layers of sky. The last time my wife and I saw any was six on the shores of Green Bay within Northumberlain Strait, New Brunswick. Years before that we saw at least a dozen on the shores of Lake Ontario, on the eastern side of Toronto. Such graceful phantoms of the sky.
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