Swans

Swans on a mirror,
ripples of peace,
brushed by heart-shaped necks reflected in a swan embrace.
They break and slide apart at a matched pace,
a slow arc that suggests they glide on glass,
until one strikes with sun-shadowing wings
that juggle the air into lift and forward motion as they dance,
with a single swan cloud climbing upon the reddening
beams of approaching twilight.

Amongst the rings of bouncing lake
she is left now, remaining set fast,
a subtle flick-flack of tail that hints her mind state.
Smooth-sailing in the setting of the sun
to swathe through the drab ducks who
bristle with mock indisposition,
knowing better than to stray too long into
her meditation.

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