I suddenly realize that the swifts have gone. No fanfare. Just a prestidigitator’s trick, a disappearance into the morning’s mist. Inside I sigh a little. One of life’s allotment of summers is over.
I suddenly realize that the swifts have gone. No fanfare. Just a prestidigitator’s trick, a disappearance into the morning’s mist. Inside I sigh a little. One of life’s allotment of summers is over.