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Deus volt; Deus mittit me.

Sunday, March 13, 2011

Fly!

Fly into the velvet midnight
Dip wingtips in moon's silver honey
Rise and stretch
Wind fills your webbing;
Carries you up into the light.
There!
Your quarry in light's shadow
It won't know its death is nie
Twisting
Plunging
Now you have it in your sights
Pounce!
Only silver dust falls down.
You slope away on the breast of the cloud
The wind caressing your feathers
Homeward bound
on the cusp of the night.

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