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December weather
It is hard to feel the joy
On a day like this.
Rain drifting over the moor
Like all the sorrows
Of a weeping world
Are pouring down from a dismal heaven.
Kestrel
Three feathers missing
From her fan-tailed hover
Brave against the gale
And free
I wonder sometimes
about what's important
Don't you?
Three feather missing
From her fan tailed hover
And still she flies
Against these ragged winds
So still in the sky
Watching,
as the sorrows pass by.

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