All up and down the Atlantic coast
Over Mountain and marsh, through mists and bright
They arch, tip wings and launch high, soaring
to touch incarnadine edges of deep blue sky
Feathered flight and effortless rise into twilight
beating a crescendo upon the windward air,
as powers of dusk and night swirl above
the slow crawl from day, its spirits yet rebel
against the tyranny of time; hosts of glimmered stars
begin to sing in tones of glows borne
to this countless chorus of far-away yesterdays
It is the blend at the bend of the world,
day folds into night, and parts of us that sleep in the
sun
awaken to wash in starlight, to bathe in light fall
cascades
of the moon.
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