The Haitian President to His Women, on the Sight of Swallows Flocking in the Waters off Fort Dauphin
Quite often from my house, I see swallows
moving in a wide sweep over the harbor
as one, the denseness of them somehow
flat and twisting as a loose ribbon or
flag might, if wrested from its mooring and
blown haphazardly in rough gusts of wind.
It is the sameness of motion that most
delights me; the hundred bodies turning
in tight unison, wrapping around ghosts
of invisible up-drafts now churning
in the late day heat of the western shore -
and with them, a lone thought rises, and sings:
my beauty is in this rushing chorus,
this doubled beating of separate wings.
KMC 10-24-06
