Swan

Paddled under on the
broken leg of a swan,
I feel your love
deep in my lake.

Hearts entwine and
flop over with the rising
and the falling of the tides.

Muds stir and plants roll
in the murky waters of
my heart, moving to the
rhythm of that broken leg.

And when she comes proudly
from that lake, she stretches her
wing way back, and in its silent
brokenness,
that wing stares
at you, with her eyes and shows
all the wanting and needing behind
that pride. She is in some pain;
some
pain from just sitting.

Her white is stark
against the water.

Serenity now turns with
her in a small tilt of
the neck. She marks my
eyes with a new gaze.
She knows she must leave
and she does.

Into the water,
our tails raised to
the skies, we look,
searching desperately
for the next thing
that will become a part
of us, and then leave again.