Saturday, October 23, 2010

Swan.

They whisper she's the princess
but she wears no jewel
and how her curls fly around
her thousand golden crowns
have escaped their bonds
and the day is almost gone.

A last moment
A long look
and oh the moon
always arrives too soon.

How the silver light falls
along the whispering lake
what a solemn shadow
your long neck makes.

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