Swan Lake

As music curves through the body, the swing of it

lifting mind's invisible feet, so it happened

a ballet I'd gone to in the days after breaking up

with someone who had found me rather clumsy

left behind a troupe of swans in my heart.

Now the inner band played on, a waltz as searing

as a light too brightly shining in a room that should be dark,

and the swans, pirouetting through the dark

and joyful moments of the plot, took my heart

dancing, till the grief that remained

turned to a mood of gentle swanning

through the fine, vacated ballroom of the mind;

till the swans evaporated with a cry.