A Change in the Weather

A trio of swans

Criss-cross the canal,

Their beating wings

Dopplering their way across the moor

Heralding a change in the weather.

I need to be in the open air

To bend like the withies

With this season’s passing.

Nothing stays the same,

And this long while is at an end.

I turn, and fix my gaze on the bend in the road

And I know it is time to go.

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