There was a time when Achilles tried to kill my son. However, the plan was doomed because my son’s skin was magically protected against the workings of any weapon. Achilles laboured and thrashed his fury around then employed fragments of armour as utensils of murderous intent. My domain of water is a transformer for the miraculous. Achilles knew he was beaten when I changed my son into a cob.
Cygnus is free
to find benign climates
he is a swan
saved from a headless death
his curved neck
hides a gruesome top slice
his fair feathers
always prolong the sun
he has space now
to ascend to his throne
a full body
atop webbed feet of gold