We crossed fields patched with scudding cloud and sun,
Down lovers’ lane, edged with buttercups and dog rose.
Hand in hand, we made our way as one,
To a haze of purple grass in the water meadows.
We stood and watched a pair of white swans spoon,
Loose downy feathers floated on the breeze,
The flooded millpond was empty for a day in June:
No dragonflies, no raucous ducks or geese.
We stood in ominous silence, side by side,
Reflected in a watery, sepia portrait
And before I had the chance to be a bride,
You dived into the reeds and I knew it was too late.
I heard the splash and gurgle of your fight,
Watched as the startled swans took flight;
I knew your life had already been borne away
As the summer sky turned from blue to grey.
I visit the water meadows every year,
Hoping that your soul still lingers here.
© Kim M. Russell, 2016