Song Of The Swans Poem by Kurt Philip Behm

The world has forever
outgrown itself,
its pants no longer fit

The cuffs too short,
the waist too tight,
its inseam worn and ripped

The fabric that
it used to grow,
lay barren in the field

The magic that
it used to show,
a sleight of hand reveal

The world has forever
outgrown itself,
its future running out

The earth exposed,
the sky on fire
—all life but hand to mouth

(Dreamsleep: March,2022)