Birds in their time

Snatched by roaring winds

To dream of whatever is there

In the shadow is a haunted face

As another lies awake waiting now

Water, rising, frogs, fish, fins, brushing

The legs as they passed by

The hazy days of summer

And all that racket

From next door

Wish I could sleep!

To dream is to sleep

To sleep is to dream

The myst...

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