You step out into the shallow brilliance of the early morning moonlight.
Take a walk in the crisp, clear air,
heavy with moisture for the morning dew,
dampening the toes of your shoes and clinging to your clothing.
Green stalks of plants are beginning to push up through the brown earth
and green buds on bare branches
signal the arrival of spring.
The ice-clear river wends its way among the trees;
Slipping by the world without a second glance.
Two swans - pure as snow - glow brightly in the moonlight,
gliding along the river like ghosts;
The only evidence of their passing are the silent ripples in the mirror,
where their bodies had cut through the water like a razorblade.
Alone again, you continue your walk.
No one will miss you for hours - by then it will be too late.
You stand by the river, water gently lapping at your shoes.
You kick off your shoes and feel the icy tingle against your toes.
You undress by the river slowly, letting the cold breeze engulf you,
and the tendrils of wind trail across your skin, raising goose bumps;
Remembering back to those days of lost innocence,
naked in the kiddie pool,
splashing around happily with the neighbourhood children.
Perhaps this sacrifice will return you to innocence.
You step into the river, shivering;
The chill air freezing the water and giving you an icy second skin.
You float on your back with arms outstretched and white skin glowing
And wait for the current to carry you away.
As your pale form disappears into the morning mist,
a swan flies across the moon, wings outstretched, and lands on the river;
Then swims off contentedly to join the other two.
