Making Their Own Breeze
The water of the Moreau River,
as motionless as the leaves of the giant sycamore
half-submerged with roots projecting skyward,
victim of spring’s high waters but determined
to send nourishment to branches willing
those leaves to life, and as still as the air
on this hot August day as my kayak sits
under a stone ledge, too high for me to reach
when volume and current are stolen by the recent
lack of rain, still feels cool to the touch in this shade
I have found, shared by the bank swallows darting
to their nests and back into the sunlight, no breeze
needed for their aerial antics as they skim the water
for a drink, then rocket up, only to turn abruptly
to feed in flights that would make any bat proud,
all of this reflected in that still water of the Moreau.
This poem is my response to Poetics: Flight of Fancy,
the prompt from Laura at dVerse ~ Poets Pub.
rivrvlogr 
lovely Ken.
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Thank you, Di.
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I really enjoyed the quiet contemplation of this piece, with a great sense of place, and a meditative all-stop moment while the swallows flit and drink; just magical.
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Thank you, Glenn. Watching the swallows almost seems like a privilege.
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Such nice respite for all here, within the poem and without. Nice touch at the end with it all being reflected in the water. Neat video also!
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Thanks, Lisa. I was pleased to find the video.
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You’re welcome.
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How lovely to see them in flight antics and in rest, over the still waters. I so enjoyed the reading too!
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Thank you, Grace. I was worried about packing too much into a few lines, but I wanted to convey that still moment while surrounded by so much activity.
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Excellent poem. I love the details here, especially this:
“The water of the Moreau River,
as motionless as the leaves of the giant sycamore
half-submerged with roots projecting skyward,
victim of spring’s high waters but determined
to send nourishment to branches willing
those leaves to life…”
You really do know how to hook your reader. This is a beautiful, captivating piece. Very lovely and visceral.
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Thank you, Lucy. I so much wanted to convey the scene.
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This has a quiet beauty. All still but the wings. (K)
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Thank you, Kerfe. This is one of those moments when I feel like I’m part of the scene, simply by watching.
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We don’t take the time often enough to let that happen.
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That is quite a beautiful poem!
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Thank you!
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I love the poem and the reading, Ken. You set the scene beautifully, the still water of the Moreau ‘as motionless as the leaves of the giant sycamore / half-submerged with roots projecting skyward’ and ‘as still as the air / on this hot August day’, with the motionless kayak under a stone ledge’, and then my gaze is guided to the amazing aerial antics of the swallows, and everything comes alive, double as it is reflected in the water.
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Thank you, Kim. I know there’s a lot of detail in a few lines, but I really wanted to set the scene.
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For many of us, bird flight is synonymous with swallows. You capture that skimming, swooping flight so well. Bird hunters.
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Thank you, Jane. Yes, very efficient hunters.
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And so beautiful.
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This is lovely, Ken.The poem is so descriptive, but reflective (in both senses of the word). 😏
I enjoyed your reading very much, too.
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Thank you, Merril. It seemed to stream out (pun intended) as I wrote it. 😉
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😀
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We have barn swallows who try to nest in our barn, of course! Amazing birds…thanks for sharing your verse and the video.
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Thank you, Lynn. They can be entertaining.
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Excellent title, – I like how the first half of the poem is the water element so that the aerial swallows can really take flight from here
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Thank you, Laura. I do see swallows about, but these moments are my closest encounters.
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I absolutely adore narrative poetry..and with you reading it as well…I was transported. Bravo!!!!
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I don’t often write narrative, so this comment is encouraging. Thank you. 🙂
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👏🏽👏🏽
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What a beautiful piece Ken, and I loved the reading!
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🙂 Thank you, Linda.
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It must be a beautiful place to kayak. Nice image of it.
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And it is! Thank you.
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