Poem: Swans

Swans
(after Lawrence Durrell, kind of)

when news headlines
scream bloodbaths and terror threats

when people grow fearful and cancel holiday plans
when armed guards patrol every threshold
when social media trends augur #WW3

the only thing left to do

is walk to the river
where swans float by and viciously
war over breadcrumbs

is to remember that this was always
the way of the world and it won’t stop

is to be sure never to pass by
a chance to declare love or have
wonderful food and a long lunch break

and know that wherever you are in the endless
chaos of the world, you can, in your mind,
return to the river and sit with the swans.

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About Irina

Philosophy graduate, literature enthusiast and lover of all things artsy, bluesy, jazzy and poetic.
This entry was posted in Poetry and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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