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A cold northeasterly
Gently blows
Ruffling the gold
Of handsome plovers
Difficult to see.
Hidden, then revealed,
Then shining.
Careful with themselves
And courting.
Their little pips
Are freed from time
And are gentle,
Beautiful reminders
We are here, we are free
So tightly bound are we
To another wild heart
High on the same mountain.
In a lark-full sky

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