What more simple than a swan

in an S, sleek over water

owning the river, the spaces in willows

hissing at trespassers

holding its pride

in a neck which could swing

all of us in a noose if we transgress

truncheon beak to eke out the best from the weeds

bullet eyes to whip us all into line

wings curved in a nest on its back

where its young settle

watching, learning.

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