That morning in April swallows impressed me,

Taking me outside of my hum-drum morning

To a world of speed and flight,

A world tilting and turning,

Spinning, dipping, zipping.


They were swallows colored blue-black,

With bellies sometimes white,

Sometimes colored the color of robin breast.


They were small swallows

Fitting into the palm of my right hand,

But never pausing, ever tilting, ever speeding,

Zipping, dipping to catch insects,

Or simply for the joy of flying.


--March 5, 2013