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David White

Autumn Evening - a poem

Under a swirl of swallows scything

The cooling air above me I sat,

Their underbellies burnished in the dying sun,

Their dark- blue backs intensely stretched in flight,

Their swooping richness such a blessing

And I thought of the long winging awaiting them,

The miles travelled and their tiny hearts pounding

And I saw how plodding and earthbound I am.


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