I was grieving in September
I felt loss
the sky was empty
without summers abundance of life
there will be no more aerial displays
swooping birds on the airstream
feasting on unaware flies overly engaged in their own ceremonies of the sky
high spirited flight, with purpose such a magnificent sight
I was grieving in September
for the swallows had gone
left for another’s warmth
another’s ability to provide
but they will return
they always do
to the white cracked home
in need of repair from winters effect
together making the home as new
and bringing new life to celebrate
and I will watch in awe
as they learn the sky dance of their parents
these thoughts
And the promise of their return
keeps me warm
as I settle into winters cold