Faithful To Her Last Breath Poem by Diana van den Berg

The wintered swan,
swathed in mourning shades
of grey,
tried to stretch her wounded wing
and as she did
a final gunshot
lodged inside
her sorrowing heart.

The red flowed slowly
over her saddened feathers
and she lifted her leadened head
and sang her swan song
in laboured breath
but still as yearning-sweet as ever
until the faltering beat, beat, beat
of her weakening heart
waned low
and her voice paled,

and her wounded wing
and her grieving head
bowed gracefully
and she died,
her last longing gaze
buried deep in his eyes.

(3 February 2012)