Swan's way

''..where it was forbidden to disturb a woman..''

..as the oil slid thickly down her back,

she never looked back,

she never looked back.

Upon antlers of swans,

entwined as they glide,

swiftly along the river's edge;

grey.

She shivvers.

She remembers.

She remembers the way,

she knows the way.

She dips in her toes before diving;

guiding her senses in

gently, 

acutely tampering with time.

'Where is the Winter?' she cried,

'Where am I?'

'My darling we are due,' was the answer in the wind,

'We are due in good time,

all in good time.'

And as she swam, 

further and further,

she realised what she already knew;

that home was a feeling within her,

 rather than the space around her.

And so she swam,

and she swam,

gliding upon the river;

white,

white feathers.

White