Since Mary Oliver’s recent death, I have seen her famous beloved poem about the wild geese reposted all over the Internet. I offer here a lovely 1921 poem about wild swans by Maine’s own Edna St. Vincent Millay (1892-1950). Here in Maine we know we have another month of winter, but we are starting to see more birds, a hopeful sign.
WILD SWANS
I looked in my heart while the wild swans went over.
And what did I see I had not seen before?
Only a question less or a question more;
Nothing to match the flight of wild birds flying.
Tiresome heart, forever living and dying,
House without air, I leave you and lock your door.
Wild swans, come over the town, come over
The town again, trailing your legs and crying!
freshmoonpie 