6.14.2016

three, four, small

white sails move

behind mother and

dad.

the trumpeters

are back, and behind

between them

cygnets paddle

into growth while

their folks cover them

from prying eyes,

ours.

they are aware,

we become aware,

of us as we walk

the pond shore

striving to put themselves

between us and their

young

like parents

everywhere.

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