The winged beast of sky chirps
Its tune freely, expressively,
Boastfully on its perch, it
Like all is heard. Peaceful in
Time, but arguing, woeing. It
Glows while sun behind it sets,
Sings nightsong for all to hear, but
Fear, it lifts to sky, propels,
Launches towards the sphered heavens.
I am sorry, man says, that I
Scared you. But beast it muted by
Distance, a fear of man, a
Threatening adversary, it flees
Never again shall it sing the tree's
Blossoms to sleep. But it shall
Settle elsewhere, and build its
Home. And sing the tunes again.
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