i never did believe in cygnets nor families of swans but now both paddle up the canal beside me like the girls of my dreams ... downy fluffy beige & beautiful eight cygnets swallow stream water in long-necked gulps right legs stretched & contorted above as left flippers gliding on mother & father following drowsily behind nearer & further away white as wisdom gentle as the truths of birth growth & slow decline death the black swans feather squinting eyes that see it all & eight more stories to sing ...
Swans of Galway
& father following drowsily behind