In the break of the dawn—
The first blue light anointing,
The loose clouds floating,
The ghost-quiet city still sleeping—
I see with both my eyes burning
A swallow like a lantern,
Now alight on the porch rail,
Fluttering her wings & dancing
A fluid waltz, like a leaf on a stream,
Rushing past my window,
Leaving behind a curious white swirl
On the windowpane, a sketch
Of its throbbing life, as if in fright.
A sudden death, an invisible part of it
Oozes out, never to be recovered.
Just like the falling of parched, brown
Needles of white pines outside my outhouse,
This winter, one by one,
Never to be charged with life again.