A Flock Of Swifts


A flock of swifts,
Dazzling, turning, beguiling
Pass barely inches from my being,
And take me by surprise.


I lose myself.
And dazzling, turning, beguiling, I fly.


The wind in the trees,
Pulsing, flowing, churning,
Captures me,
Shares its wonders,
And motionless I dance.


The due in the grass.
Reflects, refracts, divides,
And turns me back upon myself.


A reflection of a reflection,
I am.


Later, struck by thoughts of you,
I fall to the ground and weep.

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