Nature

The Swan 
Out of the newborn blue 
it flew-- 
right over my head-- 
just 10 feet above; 
A single swan 
at dawn, 
its bright, black eyes oblivious 
to my open-mouthed adoration; 
Surreally white, 
in silent flight, 
it looked and scanned 
the approach for its landing; 
A space shuttle touchdown 
without a sound— 
it barely scratched 
the liquid mirror; 
Impossible design, 
if judgment were mine, 
the huge wings and long neck 
should be gawky; 
But this paradoxical sight 
had no problem with flight: 
every feather, every muscle, every curve 
was mastery of motion.