The Flight of Swallows

The Flight of Swallows

With no cooling breeze on a hot summer day,
I trail my paddle to direct my kayak
’round the bend to the middle of the narrow river
and a bridge that offers welcome shade
from the sun, now directly overhead.

Sunlight glances from my approaching waves
to shimmer on mud nests crowded together
on the beams beneath the bridge. Swallows fly
in the sunlight ahead as I rest for a moment,
amused by their aerial acrobatics.

Like needles that weave through currents of air,
they pass each other a mere breath apart,
wing never touching wing, a simple matter
for them, while this humble viewer is
content to be carried by the river’s current.

Continuing on, I pass beneath and among them
as they dart back and forth in a feeding frenzy.
A short while later, I turn upstream and watch them
once more before continuing home, hopeful
that I might weave words of their flight onto paper.

This poem is my response to The Sunday Whirl – Wordle #513.

needlesbreathrivertouchswallowssummer
    humblepaperbendsimplebeamscrowd

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9 thoughts on “The Flight of Swallows

  1. Perfectly captured, Ken. I had much the same interaction several years ago (not sure they were sparrows), standing almost waist-deep in the river (fishing) & it imprinted itself on me forever (at least so far.)

    Summer on, Brother.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Beautifully written – can almost feel the winged energy just overhead as I read this.
    And your hope that you might weave words of their flight onto paper stirs in me the ever-increasing-as-I-age challenge to hold a poetic phrase in place till I have some method of recording it! Holding onto (memorizing) imagery helps … your imagery comes through clearly here.

    Liked by 1 person

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