Swallows on the Lake

Through the white mist on the lake
the swallows flit and flitter on  warm winds
 Moving southward these mists tempered not to stray off the frosty spring waters
They barely touch the frothy waves
they rise like a blanket blowing on a clothes line
up into the trees they go so fast
they pierce the blue sky disappearing
then emerge from a far shore, in a mist slow in its afternoons ways
as all of nature unfurls her spring- time renewal
and the mist, the rocks the water, the swallows, the winds, the sky, are all witnesses to this glorious re-creation.

Caithleen Carter Steeves