Edge of the Moment

1. The Moment

A swallow swooped down
tore you from my arms.

Geese narrowed their passage in a flock so thick
the morning sky darkened as if night had arrived early.
Gulls churred.

Wings on wing,
swirl, geese.

Tangy jet fuel.
Nose on the water’s surface.
Level landing on a blue screen.

Waiting on the wing
up to their waists.
Walking on water
shivering in coats.
Five Our Fathers, Hail Marys.

2. The Edge

Do you remember, You asked me,
when I was little and a swan swiped the half eaten banana from my hand?
I screamed – frightening you and everyone around us.

Yes, I replied. It was a harrowing scene.
You were so very little, so scared;
the swan was eye to eye with you.

Swallows skimmed the rims of my eyes this time as never before.
I will not be the same any more than you were after that day by the stream.
We thought the swan benign, but selfish and desperate
to have what it wanted when it wanted it.

Yes, You told me. But I am grown now and
in spite of the sky darkening from time to time
light shows through paper thin cracks –
at times brilliant – other times just a dim, far away.

Connie Beresin

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