The swan lands, awkwardly gliding
into water among strangers, among friends.
On the far horizon, the ponds edges
kiss coy stars, lurking in the dusk.
The swan gracefully turns her long neck;
her eyelids close softly — contentedly.
A world escapes behind veils of thin skin;
the murmur of voices fades to silence.
Gently, the elegant bird tucks her beak
under her wing and lets peace take her.




Written 26 April 2009 in Anchorage, Alaska.

Brian Fuchs, “Bea” from Okie Dokie (Scissortail Press, 2019)

Posted 26 April 2009


  1. oooh I want to be taken by peace under the wing of a Swan…a black swan…and I’ll name our baby Cleopatra Janine.

    cuz she’ll be my lil black baby, and I can braid her hair and put Bea-ds in it, and play double dutch in the streets in from of our golden palace.

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