Swans in Meaningful Blue
The swans pretend that death does not exist,
Or one at least turns, drifting, with his eyes
Ignoring it. Still, never mind the mist,
The shadows far away use its disguise
To threaten him so gently that he does not
Record the menace. Trees there in the scene
Across the water’s surface hover, fraught
With doom. The trees are other than the green
Of life’s prediction. Camouflaged
By haze the color of the breath of ghosts
These farther trees are life’s self sabotaged
By limbo. Yet the swan’s companion coasts
Directly towards the darker threat in front
As if destruction is not on the hunt.