Lark

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Sunset, a skylark dances around my house. I’ve not seen her before; she is welcome visitor to my garden. Swooping with such grace and purpose, I know she hunts as she plays. Beauty in her silent dives that gather food to her wings. Elegance in her weaving nearly touching my head, she warbles a sweet farewell. Her gift of calm saturates me as I glide into evening.

Words by errant satiety image Vourdallaque


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