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Flying Bird | ||
| Bird in flight along the lake Knows full well what route to take. Flapping wings in harmony, Waiting for a fish to see. 'Tis an ocean gull not bout To the sea where it was found. It has come to water sweet For a different kind of treat, Past the autumn leaves so bright On its peaceful lake-top flight. Hear the pensive crackling cry As the flier passes by. | ||
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