by Karla Linn Merrifield
There are no toxins;
no further notes of drought,
of famine, nor of tectonic
fractures in Hawai’i,
earthquakes in Oklahoma, Arkansas.
No sinkholes of any metaphoric ilk.
Only the expectant pair
of northern rough-winged swallows
feeding in lazy spirals, snipping up
dizzy-darting flying insect prey,
and now perched on a fence railing,
sable mating plumage in morning sun.
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