Swallows in the forest,
silently searching for a branch to call home,
spying on me,
as I swallow my apprehensive affirmations.
I will tell the truth,
shining, sweet in the moonlight.
Birds brush up against my reality,
and everything feels so final, but so new.
The night is unforgiving,
and I am understanding a little better,
why the mornings are so needy.