Painting and mix media ‘Swallow’;
I.G.
The Balance Wheel
Where I waved at the sky
And waited your love through a
February sleep,
I saw birds swinging in, watched them
multiply
Into a tree, weaving on a branch,
cradling a keep
In the arms of April sprung from the
south to occupy
This slow lap of land, like cogs of
some balance wheel.
I saw them build the air, with that
motion birds feel.
Where I wave at the sky
And understand love, knowing our
August heat,
I see birds pulling past the dim
frosted thigh
Of Autumn, unlatched from the nest,
and wing-beat
For the south, making their high dots
across the sky,
Like beauty spots marking a perfect
cheek.
I see them bend the air, slipping
away, for what birds seek.
Anne Sexton
(1928 – 1974)
