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