Swans

A ribbon of swans
flew over —
And it was a sight
Never seen before —
or so I would believe.

The sight was mine and mine alone,
Even so, I have no doubt,
a million souls must have been about.

The sight, the sounds, the feelings
Were for me to share
But only if I cared.

And as the swans moved on
I knew that others, too,
As others had before
Seen that sight
That no one had ever seen before —
Of a ribbon of swans unwinding,
Unwinding toward a southern shore.

And in that space,
That emptiness in the sky,
That quiet air —
I’ll put a memory there!

And should I ever see the swans again,
I’ll muse:
“Such a sight!
Surely, no one has ever seen it before.”

— Duluth, Minnesota, 1956