Death of a swift
I am a clock.
How many chimes
until I am
a swift?
A blackbird?
This is a fine song.
I weave blue ribbons
in my hair to catch
dragonflies.
Their lace wings
shroud my eyes.
A womb gorged
with embryos waits
til the next time
I die.
©2024 Sarah Drury
the starry-eyed mermaid 