Wild Swans

Edna St. Vincent Millay, 1892 – 1950

I looked in my heart while the wild swans went over.
  And what did I see I had not seen before?
  Only a question less or a question more;
Nothing to match the flight of wild birds flying.
Tiresome heart, forever living and dying,
  House without air, I leave you and lock your door.
Wild swans, come over the town, come over
The town again, trailing your legs and crying!