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Back in damp thick fog
A wind from the east
Swings soft and cold
over the wilds
And the water
A little cloud
Of Starlings wings
Makes a little murmur
Swirling up
Towards the wire
Noisy gulls scream at me
In teeming rain
There's steam rising
from my jacket
And my world is misty
High above
Two Ravens sing
I hope the air is clear for them
And that they can see for miles

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