waterside walk

lap

after lap

after lap

 

is the way the wind moved

loch waters go

varying in size and strength

 

each one 

folding over and

drowning the one in front

 

that floating debris mass

of twigs and leaves is all that remains

of a once put together home

by the two nest building swans

 

theres nothing the little observant girl

can or wants to do

about it

 

she is too concerned

with following her pram pushing mother

who in turn is too concerned with reading a letter

 

today

everything has a winter-like atmosphere about it

lamentably grey and overcast

 

though of no importance

to the little girl

carrying four years of nonchalance

 

bereft of concern about the destroyed swans home

the weather or

the lamenting tears coldly welling up

in her mothers eyes