A Right Pair
When 2 swans trumpeted to fly out north
With heralding whoops and bright eyed splashes
The others drew out and formed a runway
To lead them straight to green, open tundra
But zeal can often be the trap of fools
As in their sweet romance they flew madly
And smacked themselves across a blind pylon
To shatter wing, and split their wish-bone dream.
As the sting of cliché dawned upon them
One half, broke off and promised to return.
But barely had the moon waned out for dawn
When he came waddling back, his own wing limp
Now wondering if there's much more they can do
Than glide around in darkness as a 2