ONE MOTION swifts of the city come and go in one motion an architect of shadows in her torn clothes is building the night sky while daylight falls to pieces swifts whirl above a chimney's mouth and drop in order down as if smoke returned with feathers to nests not fire my spirit is in my mouth where it has been before where it has been carried is what I must be able to say and I find more is true than not true and only what can be broken was ever whole