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Young Kestrels calling
Testing their wings
Turning circles
Over the wood.
Leaving home
Returning.
A hurried fluttering
Of twisted Ringlets
Rising together to
Settle upon lilac thistle-tops.
A pale half moon
Hangs high over Stoodley
I wait and watch
Swallows and white clouds
sailing by
I feel like I'm falling
Into the sky

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