The Swan Reflection

Her grace could never really be disputed
by any lover of beautiful things.
Yet, she is deeper than the shallow pond they place herwithin.
The fog is her's--a solemn tribute
to her keen knowledge of ugliness.
She has been passed by Bohemian eyes,
learned to friendship forested loneliness,
and she has spent summers staring at reflection
Firmly believing the beauty was found in her soul
reached by the gray-green of her endless eyes.
But awkward adolescence felt like unwarranted transgression.

So although breath-taking beauty has come
she still glides gracefully alone
and as the orange fog ascends away,
the warmth of future life finally shown
does not have quite the strength to lift her neck.
The fear of white feathers not rainbow soul being loved
keeps her quietly staring at the setting of another day.

~DaLe 12.2.08