The Thames at Windsor this Sunset
The evening sunlight shines unevenly
Upon the floating water and the swan.
His neck receives the lovely force we see
Along its curving back like cream chiffon
In candlelight. He moves away from west
To east just while the sun is sinking down
As if to signal swans think they are best
To turn away from deathliness—and frown
With grace and whiteness towards the twilight hour,
And face the distant time when dawn will spread
Across the river. He has learned the power
Of bending from the darkness his domed head.
Tomorrow when the morning comes again
The swan will face the daylight’s new fledged reign.