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Rain Towards Morning

 The great light cage has broken up in the air, 
freeing, I think, about a million birds 
whose wild ascending shadows will not be back, 
and all the wires come falling down.
No cage, no frightening birds; the rain is brightening now.
The face is pale that tried the puzzle of their prison and solved it with an unexpected kiss, whose freckled unsuspected hands alit.

Poem by Elizabeth Bishop
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