No-one saw them sky in –
twelve swans fresh
from nowhere.
They sail in convoy,
bow waves curl
along their flanks,
wings catch the wind,
curved necks signalling
SSSSSSSSSSSS
Later, in the afternoon
some rest so still
you see each feather
in their reflections.
Others snake below the surface
looking for small fish, frogs and weed.
They were still there at dusk –
twelve jack o’lanterns glowing among the shadows.
No-one saw them leave.
Next day the lake was still, silent,
waiting, perhaps.
But they never returned.
A Terrible Fear of Cheese 