David Selzer is a writer of poetry, prose fiction, screenplays and stage plays. He embraces digital platforms to share his work of more than fifty years… READ MORE


  • SWIFTS

    This morning apple blossom, scattered by

    the softest of winds, showered me like

    confetti and, by chance, I looked up

    into a deep, deep cobalt sky and there

    they were – one, two then a third and fourth –

    arriving perennially at this time

    here each May. Monogamous, returning

    to the same nests until they die, each

    generation nesting in the empty nests –

    each generation now, as it returns yearly

    from the tropics, finding more and more nests

    gone as buildings are renovated

    and new ones built sealed as airless boxes.

    Aerobatic harbingers of summer

    then autumn, once flocking our suburban sky,

    are becoming presagers of dearth.

     

     

     


    3 responses to “SWIFTS”


    1. Caroline Reeves Avatar
      Caroline Reeves

      Your posting reminded me that, while you were on holiday, the swifts arrived in Guildford and I immediately thought of you, and when the three of us were in Palma and the swifts were so very swift as we watched from the balcony as they swooped around the rooftops at our eye level!

    2. John Huddart Avatar
      John Huddart

      This year a swift [s] has taken refuge in our shed, with the bins. Usually you duck when entering, as they always streak past. But does your poem mean this will now go on forever? Buzzed and privileged at the same time!

      1. David Selzer Avatar

        Yes, forever – unless you ‘improve’ the shed or demolish it.

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