John Anthony Fingleton writes

Evening Swan

 

I watched the wild swan in the distance,

Spreading white flares of light,

Lifting the rays of the setting sun,

With the grace of its evening flight.

 

A ballet without music

A dance with breath of wings

A poem that held the line just right

A song that nature sings

 

It rose into the evening sky,

Without effort full of grace,

Before flying towards the wetlands island,

Then disappeared without a trace.
 Nude with Flying Swans -- Meredith Frampton