The Swan

In silence she sails Upon the silvery water, So calm and still By the bank of the weeping shore. Where the wilting reeds Hark unto their final call, And bow with reluctance Towards their solemn grave. And there she rests within the shallows Of the hushed amber glaze, As the sun sinks gently Into the glow of the evening sky. So slowly she glides Without a stir nor ripple, Floating like an autumn leaf That's moved by a whispered breeze. A majestic silhouette Against the burning hues of September, That fade into the darkness And the arms of the waiting night. 2011