I came late to chimney swifts
but now that I take note of them,
living close to the sky in a high building,
my life has expanded.
I await their return in spring
and am saddened when they depart in fall.
There’s much false talk of freedom these days
but watching the flight of the swifts above the city
feels like a kind of freedom to me,
like wind and air,
like movement that humans can’t do,
briefly touching another life form
that I don’t know what it’s like to be,
as I am of the ground
despite where I live,
and they are of air and grace
and the stamina
to still be holding on.
And may they still hold on
hold on
lest life become so bereft of others
that we will fade into oblivion
without the will to save even our own hearts.
–Lily S. May, 2022–
Arts of May 