From Section on LOve

Swallows

Love flew south like the swallows
who did not return at full moon,
nor will love. It lies in wait
for the dragonfly to beat
its tiny wings, for the stillness
of a summer breeze to reveal itself.
Yet love will circle around like
the swallows of Capistrano, disappear
into niches long hewn by centuries
of weather at St. Joseph’s Church.

If you look closely, love
is already here:
the smile of a child,
the word of a friend,
the warmth of a pet,
and the stars God gives us,
the flashlights of angels.
Like the swallows, love will
return year after year until
one day it will be all there is.