Dec 22

The Swan

I'm stuck between two pieces of river rock
I can hardly breathe but
There's beauty above me.
I try to focus on the shape up there
And not on my leaky breath
It's murky and vague
But moving quickly, like a motor but much more beautiful,
Because this is nature.
I can't do this anymore.
I let out the last of my breath, preparing for the world to blur around me.
But to my surprise, I can see the white feathers more clearly than ever.
Is the swirling substance around me 
Giving me a gift?
Or is it the creature
Floating serenely above?
Suddenly the swan pokes its orange bill into the water,
staring at me quizzically.
It seems to say,
"Are you one of us?"
My baggy clothes and stringy hair hang about my body like a soggy blanket
My foot aches with the pain of the sharp stones
But in that moment
All I can see
Is the swan.