Jay Macpherson(b. 1931)
The Swan
White-habited, the mystic Swan
Walks her rank 0 cloister as the night draws down,overgrown
In sweet c o m m u n i o n with her sister shade,
Matchless and unassayed.
The tower of ivory sways,
Gaze bends to mirrored gaze:
This perfect arc embraces all her days.
And when she comes to die,
The treasures of her silence patent lie:
"I am all that is and was and shall be,
My garment may no man put by.