My word for 2017:
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Wednesday, January 04, 2017

The swan

I saw you flying over the lake last night
your elegant body held up by strong
wing strokes,
you and your mate and three juveniles
still in their grey plumage,
flying silently
in formation
landing,
settling on the lake surface,
ready for an evening snack.

It seems to me like you have the
freedom to go
wherever you want
maybe just driven by
hunger and the need for
protection and
a habitat,
but what do I know?




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