Diving Swan

Along the shore — its colours, lights, so strong
they formed one glittering pattern — I walked
until my knees and ribs ached, my rhythm
counterpointing that of the sea. Beyond me,
for a time, the swan trawling beneath the waves,
its head surfacing after long intervals …
Then it materialised fully, stretching
and poising dry wings, was suddenly in flight,
almost touching the line of water it had swum
beneath. Into the sun's path it veered,
to alight on waves just outside my vision.
Against rising winds it had moved with easy
power, a black shape undulating between
four elements: graceful, slow, unwavering.