The Provinces of Sea Swallows
I knew what my promises had meant
when they were freed from my mouth,
I had wanted substance mixed with light,
and, in flight, I imagined they were arctic terns
that ascended with a spread
of a mermaid's tail, and then circled
dizzy downward to meet you.
I wanted them to dance and fall
as a thrall of of feathers upon you,
but that you would sense their weight too,
when I announced them from the blood red
of my beak. We speak of how we could be better
at living and dying or
how we could be so much better
at being and loving.
These are the provinces of sea swallows,
my sentences are administrations
of tender tokens of sand eels and pledges
to chase summers of daylight with you.
Image from pixabay.