Swans Lll Poem by Morgan Michaels

And many, many more
along an endless shore
their light-militia up the flood extended
fluid, fierce and sotto-sounding
further than the eye could see
pissed as if they had to pay
mortgages, with fees compounding
on which their lives depended-
but, actually, they didn't, needing nay.

Then there came a dawn
so curious, I can't forget
it morning was and blowing quite a bit;
down in a desultory way
the snows of dawn fell down that winter day
when all them turned, acceding to one will
and over the water sped and faster till
they one by one began to disappear
into the low-set clouds like jet succeeding jet
clutching his fellow's tail in his own bill.

I do not know, I wish I did know where
Water-Wing and Weary
Clamor, Flotsome, Fade
the lovely, sinuous O'Leary
Sulphur-Cheek and Feather-Legging, are;
and Feather-Bed and Feather-Head and Fade
but I can only guess, I guess-
where Mute is, Trumpeter and Wade-
whose eye was pink and twinkled like the Morning Star.