SWANS IN THE CLOUDS

I thought I saw it first

but migratory birds beat me to it

for they do fly closest don't they ?

Untiring wings flapping beside

a host of celestial sculptors,

The creators of moving alabaster

The artists who paint mist

and fashion ever changing soluble marble

into visions for mankind

The craftsmen that contour imagination under the firmament

with a slow hand but poetic consequence

 We saw it next!

The Swans in the clouds 

spreading wings lazily over an ever dissolving trail

Humidity spinning like clay on a potter's wheel

Disintegrating into snowfall and hail

Migratory passengers huddled in a steel cage

hurtling in an invention of the modern age

privileged with a window to opportunity

  to observe precipitation exclusively