A swift in flight continues sky-bound for months,
feeding and sleeping mid-air,
adapting to currents,
her body wide open
to weather.
Once during a mighty storm
a swift landed upon my roof terrace.
Seconds later, she lifted again,
seized by the wind, drawn spiraling out, higher, farther.
I was not afraid for her.
I smiled as I watched her disappear,
an elemental winged thing,
storm wed,
resilient.
