Two swans swim up the river side by side:
She forages on ahead, he keeps behind.
They mate for life and both are of one mind,
Though separately seeking what they need.
He, who has been alone too long, in one
Muscular sweep annuls the space between,
To join her down the brown, the gray, the green
Flux their whole life has been lived out on.
They ride the pull, steadying their gleam
Of white on the hurrying, multi-colored water,
Against the light-and-shadow’s flickering stir,
Balanced between the arriving and departing stream.
This article originally appeared in The New Criterion, Volume 14 Number 2, on page 37
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