Adrian Thomas - Swallows

The Swallows fly high this evening
Chasing bugs.
For those little things they dart in changing directions;
Rise up, plummet.
Moodlike. Lovelike.
Today one is dead.
I pick it from the stones and place it in the undergrowth.
There it will rot.
This evening I shall watch the others.
Remembering.

(c) Adrian Thomas 2009

Adrian Thomas

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/swallows-4/