The swallows fly out to catch the little eddies of spring;

I close my eyes to the sun as the clouds part above
And let the warmth gloriously take me.
Days, weeks, months, my balcony of interaction;
Lone people occasion to pass by, my chance to greet
High above the dog walkers, trippers to the community bin.

What is isolation if you allow your soul to fly out with the swallows?