Day of Change

Lawrence Holofcener

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Coming and going

And going and coming

Resting a moment, a month or more.

Perfectly aerodynamically graceful

Scouring the heavens from shore to shore.

Seemingly fragile

All feathers and stuffing

Yet able to travel for miles without puffing.

Swiftly or lazily crossing the sky.

Making one wonder

Just how do birds fly?

Followed by even

A deeper thought-why?

Are they of another world

Captured by ours

Bound by our atmosphere's limited powers?

Tirelessly wandering here and about -

Could they be searching

To find the way. . . out?

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