A Swift Guest

A purple film stitches

feathers of white against the breeze

as two black boxes resist

the glare of the drone’s buzzing, the swallows—

swifts, perhaps—darting 

crumbs out of the bird’s eye

recording. Marriage is a pact with

a goose honks. They have prepared

their vows. Tears from dreams

of sun come true on Earth.

They kiss. A red dress and powder blue

shirt whose tags I’ll forget

before bride and groom’s parents

collect the leftover fruit. Swifts

swallow away the lake’s reflection.

Almost two thirds of the way through NaPoWriMo, whoohoo! I hope that y'all have been feeling inspired to write some poetry this month!