October Love

I watched a swan

flying across the pale river

curve and disappear

among the dead trees.

The sadness of its going

was like the thought

of life without you.

I mourned for the swan

whose last sweep of white wing

came like the wave of your hand

and was gone.

The season waits. October

love can't crack.

At last across the space between us you write

the lost words....

Without warning

the dead trees leaf,

the swan sweeps back.

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