It's Still Life

I Am In The Shadow

of high
brick arches
walls of
chipped stucco
rendering heated
dust raining
from bells
pealing names
of vanished saints
and tales
of moonstruck
swallows
coaxed from
nesting cliffs
swift as light
on wings
that cut
clouds and sky.
our shadows
were just
fluttering
lips.

for dVerse Poets, Quadrille Monday “Swift” and 44 words sans title.  © Misky 2021 Image WikiCommons California State Archive. A poem based on recollections of a trip to the mission of San Juan Capistrano where the swallows return in mid-March every year.