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Above the Valley
As we pass through this Autumn realm,
See the valley bound wraiths of mist
Withdrawing like a tide from the willow
Islands of the marshland
With their starkly black boughed trees
Damply dripping with the mist's remains,
Chill air swirls in the rising breeze, and
Black starlings line the wires beyond a barn
But the red kite in his higher flight
Is lost to sight
...
Wednesday 1st November 2017 2:35 pm
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