A Flock Of Swifts Poem by John McAndrew
A Flock Of Swifts
A flock of swifts,
Dazzling, turning, beguiling,
Take me by surprise.
I lose myself.
Dazzling, turning, beguiling,
I fly.
The wind in the trees,
Pulsing, flowing, churning,
Captures me,
And shares its wonder,
As motionless,
I dance.
Later, struck by thoughts of you,
I bow down,
And touch the earth.
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4/28/2024 4:44:35 PM # 1.0.0.1119
