Come fly with me …

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It’s late as I write
I should be in bed
tomorrow I fly again
this time, north
where the dust is red
and pink frangipani bloom
outside the door
I won’t be alone
you’ll be with me
watching the silent heron
as it catwalks through mudflats
and as always, waterside
waiting
for sunrise and sunset
then, I’ll be home soon,
too soon,
with stars for eyes
waiting
for the ascent, again.

a dawn bird

8 thoughts on “Come fly with me …”

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