The black swans

Sunlight fell on everything,
lighting the palm trees brilliant
that stood in the middle of the lake.

The waters were shaped in rounded pools,
surrounded by cultured lawns
and a chaos of trees and flowers.
While overhead the squawking the fruit bats
reminded me that I was in a foreign country.

But nothing so much as the black swans
gliding through schools of ivory gulls,
standing out beautifully
like carvings of ebony adrift upon the water;
as the others, like fluttering foam,
rose up around them.