The swan

The swan

For a moment a swan
down by the river
at Henley
the unspoilt beauty
of immaculate white wings

and so it thrashes them
and in the process
throws up
a spray of water
before it settles
back down

and elegantly dips its bill
below the unsettled surface
as though to drink
or refresh
its throat

and as the sun sets
its regal poise
once more regained
it glides off upriver
to be lost forever
to my prying eye

John Lyons

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2 thoughts on “The swan

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