The Swallows’ Return

by Susan Anawalt

This spring as the hills 
Wet from rain wrinkle into 
Mustard-yellow and lime-green
I miss you. 

Now the swallows 
Return in clouds 
Swarming over the lake 
Into mud nests 
Under the bridge. 
There, I, too, return. 

Their wings so translucent,
Blurred, as they swoop, 
Twist in air. 
Dark blue backs 
Glisten almost black. 
In a flicker of a turn 
A hint of glowing  
Amber burns. 
Such dizzying life, 
Rising, dipping life! 

Watching, I lift 
Eyes toward light. 
And in that moment 
Stilled in enchantment 
I forgot you, 
I forgot you  
Were the one who  
Brought me first to  
The swallow’s return.