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Swan

I rub out the sun with an eraser
glue stars onto the sky
cut out the moon from a National Geographic
 
I arrange lamps
on empty streets
lighting one at your favourite bench
 
Fallen leaves
rustle under my boots
collected by the wind
 
A swan swims in the city fountain
I don’t know what he’s doing here
alone at night
 
He’s nestling his head in feathers
tucking himself
underneath his wings

~

Agnieszka Filipek lives in Galway, Ireland. She writes in both, her native tongue Polish and in English, and also translates in these languages. Her poems have appeared in over 40 publications internationally, including countries, such as Poland, Ireland, India, Hong Kong, Bangladesh, England, Wales, Northern Ireland, Germany, Canada and the United States. Visit www.agnieszkafilipek.com

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