black Swan

A water colour portrait of a black swan Arched nostrils above its yellow beak Inside its cold eyes-hope a glint of white Neatly folded grey progressing to black wings Each feather layered in perfect synch. Neat. Yellow feet lurk in the shimmering water. Top marks at school, but discarded To the garden shed, the coal bunker Where winter fuel, dried and ripened I found it and brought indoors and Showed it to mum, asked who drew this? Your sister. Already in awe, but couldn’t Understand why this wasn’t treasured. Sixty years on, your pedestal dissolved Fallen. This swan an image of your self. The yellow beak fooled for many years The glint of the eye, slyness and deception Your character’s like the body of the swan Thirty percent below the line, a mystery Souls, like swans, are to most pure white. Your soul personified by your own hand In an A level water colour: Jet Black Swan. David Cox 01/09/24 Discarded in the shed by the coal bunker Black on black, in the dark and discarded It’s yellow beak a contrast, hint of light