The Swan

Evening light;

you and I walking beside the river;

the gold coins of leaves littering our path,

the world around us turning quiet and serious

beneath heavy clouds lost in thought.

Then a swan lights like a match;

its wings aflame over the water, in the water,

magnificent as magnesium burning.

We stop to marvel, and find ourselves wistful;

the swan is us, our souls' yearning for beauty.